#sorry its not much i wish there had more scenes together

[chaoticvi]

Ekko x Jinx + TV tropes requested <3

[citricacidprince]

could you draw the courtroom scene with relativity falls? (mabels bubble)

Gladly!!! I’ve already brought up some Stan Weirdmageddon Bubble stuff here, but the equivalent of the Mabel Trial for Stan makes me wanna blow up I just adore it!!

Okay, so first things first, here’s Captain Stan’s design, my precious baby boy <3

Figured it’d be fun to mix some aspects of Grunkle Stan’s Mr. Mystery outfit with a pirate twist, just for fun!

As for the ‘trial’, its more of a argument between two boys who just WONT talk about their issues

Fiddleford, Boyish Dan, and Anjelita are also there, but Stan isn’t mad at them. In fact, he doesn’t even care that they’re breaking the rules by being there, he’s only mad at Ford. He’s mad that Ford was just going to leave him behind and send Stan back to New Jersey by himself while he stayed and studied with their Grunkle Dipper. Leaving Stan all by himself at home. Alone to deal with their father. Alone with no friends. Alone to be the family disappointment.

But no matter how mad he gets at Ford, Stan can’t ever say that he’s hates him, and Stan would give him a million chances to fix things. So, instead of immediately throwing Ford off the deck of his ship, he gives him an ultimatum. A very easy solution to all of this.

All Ford has to do is say that he’s sorry, and Stan would let him go. He won’t leave the bubble because he actually really likes it in there, but he’ll let Ford go.

This.. doesn’t end very well

Stan, absolutely heartbroken, decides to make his brother walk the plank. If he’s dead to Ford, well then Ford is dead to him as well.

However, right before his crew could push Ford into the water, something happened.

You see, when Stan unknowingly gave the rift to Bill he only had one wish. That he’d never be alone again. So when he first appeared in his bubble it was actually completely dark and empty, except for a small light glowing in his hands. It was a little version of Ford. He smiled and laughed just like he did when they were a bit younger, and he said everything Stan wanted to hear.

Very quickly Stan realized he could manipulate the bubble and create anything that he wanted, just like he could back in the Mindscape. So he created what he knew. Glass Shard Beach, New Jerseys. It was full of never ending boardwalks, houses and attractions with silly names, and that beach he loved so much. It didn’t take long after that to realize it was still quite lonely, even with Lil’ Ford (a name he lovingly gave the small version of his brother). However, he didn’t want the town to be full of faceless nobodies or people he actually knew, that’d be weird.

Then he had the genius idea to just fill the town with himself! After all, he never had to worry about himself betraying him or leaving him behind!

Soon the town was overrun with imperfect duplicates of himself and he couldn’t have been any happier.

However, the duplicates were so much like him that it soon made a new problem arise. They started asking about Ford. Like, ‘Where is he?’ ‘Can you make one?’ ‘I miss having him around.’

Stan did have Lil’ Ford hidden under his pirate hat, but he didn’t want to tell the other Stans that he was there. He didn’t know exactly why he kept Lil’ Ford hidden away. Probably a mixture of bitterness and anger still aimed at his real twin brother and a selfishness to keep Lil’ Ford to himself. So he just declared that Fords were banned altogether and left it at that.

This was a problem when right as Stanford was about to pushed off the plank, Lil’ Ford came out from under the Captain’s hat and told Stan to stop all of this.

The two bicker for a moment and some Stans ask who that is, causing Lil’ Ford to happily state that he’s Stanley’s brother, that the two are going to sail the world together, and that he loves Stan very dearly.

This doesn’t go over well with literally any of the Stan on board and it especially doesn’t go over well with Ford

The Stans pull a mutiny and try to kill Stan because they don’t think he should be Captain anymore and one of them should run the town instead.

Hard cut to Boyish Dan, Anjelita, Fiddleford, Ford, and Stan having a high speed boat chase with other Stans and popping the bubble while escaping. (I like to think Stan popped the bubble at the last second with the help of Shanklin <3 )

Stan is NOT happy about having to leave his Weirdmageddon bubble.

“You should have left me in there. I was HAPPY there.”

“Who cares if you were happy, you were living a lie! A sad delusion! You should be happy we pulled you out of there!”

Boyish Dan has it cut in before the two start fighting right then and there

Stan eventually calms down enough to decide that he’s going to save their Grunkle Dipper from Bill, but there is a thick tension between Stan and Ford that last until the huge blow out fight at the Cipher Wheel

A fight that started because Stan wanted Ford to finally say it.

‘I’m Sorry.’

[kanmom51]

Hi! I love reading your posts so much so I would like to know your thoughts on this:

https://x.com/smol_kia/status/1550222383075586048?t=1QUT02cleCrXVULBEegSjw&s=19

I saw some of us on X thanking this person for manifesting the toothbrushing scene which was funny but at the same time i am super confused on how jikook really did exactly the same as the fan art (the plaid pyjamas especially)! Do you think this was purely coincidence or one of them saw it and went 'let's make this to reality'?

English is not my first language, so I'm sorry if my ask is all over the place :) love ya!

Let's start with the end here why don't we?

JM and JK are the real thing. They have a real actual relationship unlike the dreamt up needing to lean on made up fanart relationship that Tkks delude themselves JK and Tae have.

That is the starting point.

Jikook are the real deal. A real life long term loving couple. TKK are not. Not a couple. Friends yes. At times closer at times not so much, but always and only friends.

So, let's talk about that fanart. It's from 2022. 22 July 22 to be accurate. I am literally feeling sick to my stomach at the moment, but I will share the photo, cause I'm going to be making a point here.

*At least they kept the JM in place (although they probably are deluded as to it's meaning...).

So, why is the date so important, you may ask.

Because that is the day ITS Friendcation came out.

And guess what we got in that first episode of the show.

Only the four friendliest of friends in their matchy plaid pj's.

Basically what we had was TKK's in their hazed daydreams wishing that instead of Tae sleeping together with his squad, to which a one Jeon Jungkook does not belong no matter how much they want to twist it (same crew that left JK at the ski resort by himself while leaving together), instead of Tae waking up with Wooga and their match plaid pj's and brushing teeth together, it would be JK there with him.

Like I say, dream on.

That fanart of theirs, is a dream not a reality, and they can scream until they are blue in the face, it won't change the fact that the one brushing his teeth with JK at the moment is JM, not Tae, by choice. JK choice. JM's choice. They both wanted it. They both planned it. They both worked towards it. And they are both living it right now.

I find it kind of funny how TKKs keep on screaming that JM and JK's travels are for the camera, not genuine, all for the buck. If that was true, if Jikook were indeed the 'fanservice' couple for BH, if Jikook were a money maker as a unit for the company, how is it that this cash machine has never been properly utilized. It always amuses me to hear this from them all while most of Jikook's interactions are off camera, not for us to intentionally see. This one unit that has never come to fruition officially (until now, and there is a reason for that and a reason why we are getting more now, none of which are them being 'faked' for the camera in order to make money).

I love how they twist everything to fit a constant changing narrative. I actually don't know how they keep up with themselves. It would be so exhausting.

I saw Mina's tweets. Will not share them here. I will not give that hateful ***** a platform here. All I will say is that it must be so very hard for her right now. Reality is hitting and it's hitting hard. I guess it's a last hurrah, an attempt to cling to their fantasy. Basically acting like a belligerent child having a tantrum.

If I didn't loath her and her kind I would actually pity them. They are going to be so very miserable in the upcoming months. Not to mention after they are all back from the military.

I guess these weirdos need to be reminded that JM and JK's Tokyo trip back in 2017 was not for the cameras. A trip eternalized with JK's GCFT, a trip they could not stop talking about, a trip they continued to talk about in their book under the title Real love.

I won't remind them of just how fondly JK was talking about their trip and the show, nor will I bring up that shining sun of a smile he had when JM says he'll hug him later, cause you know, these are basically fans that have no interest in what the idol they supposedly love (yeah, no love there) says or feels. It's about what they, as fans, want to feel dreaming about buff JK the fuckboy, bad boy, man handler and his dainty weak boyfriend Tae (with their love hate toxic jealousy drama filled relationship).

Excuse me for a sec...

I also guess they need to be reminded that not all of JM and JK's time together was filmed, not all of it was for the cameras, as they love to put it. Not in NY, and definitley not in Tokyo 2023. Funny how two people that were working on enlisting together and got to fulfill their wishes and make sure that the 18 months of their military service they are inseparable, even if that means a tougher placement than if they enlisted separately, still wanted to go on these trips together. I think that by now any claim that this was forced on them - the trips, the show, the enlistment - have been long disproved.

And for a couple that the company are 'trying to push on us' it's really funny how silent they have been since their enlistment. But yeah, these people will continue to say what they want because otherwise their dreams are dead. Kind of like Larry's that still think those two are a thing.

You know what else that fanart comes after, btw?

Not only the ITS friendcation, but also after this:

JK directing LGO MV choosing the couples pj's, choosing to have JM walk out of the bathroom brushing his teeth JK waiting for him in the bedroom.

Fanart is art (not that some of the fanart out there would be considered art by myself, but you know, that's a personal taste, or distaste, and that btw includes some Jikook fanart as well). It can replicate or express reality but it can also be an outright fantasy.

In this case it's TKKs seeing the reality (Wooga and Jikook) and expressing fantasy (their ideas or wishes applied onto TKK), lol.

And now we have JM and JK on their trip wearing these couples pj's.

What a blow that must have been for TKKs. And this whole scrambling thing they are doing, that this is "the company" copying their fanart. Absolutely hilarious.

Jikook have shown us over the years that they love plaid. Not gonna add pics here cause there is no end to them. JK, JM alone, together, plaid is something they have been doing. Specifically? Not necessarily. But it's something they wear.

Jikook themselves have worn plaid pj's in the past for LGO MV (and the live as well - do I remind you guys of JK's joke about why he decided to have JM brushing his teeth?). Director JK. Their choice.

The fanart TKKs are squealing about was not an original piece of art that a TKKer came up with. They literally copied the pajamas worn by the Woogas in ITS Friendcation inserting JK into their fantasy.

If people would watch original content they would know that Jikook, both of them, tend not to wear pj's at home. Not around the house and not in bed. We saw JM in ITS 2. We saw JK in his bed live (in which I would love to remind TKKs how flirty and naughty he was with JM all while being half naked in bed, nagging JM to do a live with him, all his choice, all knowing that the company will not be happy with him, lol - still waiting for that Jikook live, you know from the company's "for the cameras" couple). Oh, and we also have the LV live. Yeah, that was an interesting one. Seeing that not only did we hear from JM and Hobi that JM walks around in his undies at home but that JK is in charge of the soundtrack... I guess while he's in his undies as well...(JM's reaction to Hobi's slip up was priceless). Point being that those two don't do clothes for sleep. But clearly they couldn't go 'au natural' for the show, so they chose to wear pj's.

And just like the other clothes that they chose to wear throughout their travels, that we will get to see in the show, they chose to wear these pj's.

Couple pj's.

This is not a photo shoot. This is them coming from home with their own clothes wearing what they want to wear, what they feel comfortable in. And they chose to wear those pj's knowing EXACTLY how it will be perceived.

And just like Wooga chose to wear the plaid pj's, which btw were all identical, like the rings they wear, probably as a symbol of their friendship, all while NO ONE ever dared to claim that they were dressed by stylists or forced into wearing them or that the creators of the show even suggested the idea to them, JM and JK chose to wear these pj's that are not identical but seem to be perceived as couple's pj's.

Pajamas sold out of course, the company's caption at the bottom being: "How about watching the show together in couple pajamas?"

Their choice.

Their decision.

Filming themselves brushing their teeth - their decision.

I want to make something clear here. They have said it and I will repeat it. This is not a scripted show. This is them travelling, experiencing, enjoying themselves (you cannot fake those smiles and giggles), filming themselves. That angle, the camera in the bathroom, that is a camera they placed there, they wanted us to see this just like JK wanted to show us JM brushing his teeth and coming out to him in the bedroom.

Do I remind you what happened when a camera was placed in a room when they didn't want us to see what they were up to?

This is not 2018 anymore. This is 2024 (well, filmed end of 2023, and may I just note that after the new contracts were signed, and I do think this is highly relevant as to what we are going to be getting in this show, what we will be allowed to see, the level of candor). No more hidden cameras in rooms (I think the company had realized that was a dangerous game they were playing at), and their artists control over what will be filmed and what not.

Their choices, their decisions, not some company executive. Them. The two of them.

I will end this by saying that I doubt that Jikook are even aware of this TKK fanart.

But if they were, then this wouldn't be them copying the fanart trying to create the illusion they are a couple.

No need for an illusion when you ARE the real deal.

If, by any chance, they were aware of the fanart then I would say that any connection to it would be them saying a big FUCK YOU to TKKs and their delusions.

But yeah, I do doubt they were even aware of this pic.

JK's search logarithm is Jimin based. Not TKK. So keep dreaming TKKs, cause not only are TKK not the thing you so very much want them to be, the thought of that thing, them as a couple, you as a fan group, your art and fantasies, all those aren't even a blip on JM and JK's radars.

[butlervibesonly]

heyyy girl, was wondering if you could please write a fic where austin and reader are married and reader maybe has to get surgery (any type) and its just all fluffy? tysm!

𝐹𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑠𝑒𝑡 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑜𝑠𝑝𝑖𝑡𝑎𝑙 | Austin Butler

• Summary : Y/n and Austin Butler are Hollywood's beloved married couple. As they work on the movie together, there is a filming during which Y/n accidentally brakes her leg and is rushed to hospital.

• Pairing : Austin Butler x actress reader

• Warnings : hospital mentioned, surgery (not directly just mentions), broken leg etc.

• Note : Heeey anonymous reader! Thank you so much for this requests, I hope it's gonna be fluffy just as you wish!! And I also hope you don't mind I made the reader actress, it just suits me with the situation! ☺️ (PS. I found the gif on Tumblr, not sure where, but credits goes to owner! 🤍)

The day had started like any other on set, filled with the activity of the crew members adjusting lights, actors repeating their lines, and director shouting cues. You and Austin were working on a pivotal scene together, your chemistry lighting up the room — no wonders Hollywood loves both of you.

But one wrong step during a stunt had turned everything upside down. You're laying on a hospital bed, your leg in a temporary cast as the sharp ache pulsed with every slight movement Austin sits beside you, his hand gripping yours tightly, his eyes filled with worry he isn’t bothering to hide. Which you, of course, find so cute.

"I’m so sorry," you whispered, disappointed . "I ruined the scene, ruined the schedule—"

"Hey, stop that," he cuts in softly but firmly, squeezing your hand. "You didn’t ruin anything. Accidents happen, and none of this is your fault, okay?." Austin's free hand reached up to gently brush a strand of hair away from your face. "The only thing I care about right now is you."

You smile to his words. He always been protective, but seeing you in pain was something he clearly wasn’t prepared for. A nurse comes to your hospital room, bringing x-ray of your leg. "Mrs. Butler, according to the results of your x-ray, the fracture will need to be fixed in surgery."

You sigh because you knew this would be necessary. Austin squeezes your hand even more, raising his eyebrows. "But you don't have to worry about anything, it won't be a complex procedure, you'll be fine," the nurse smiles warmly.

Austin leans closer, his hand never leaving yours. "I’ll be right there with you through all of it. From the moment you go in until you wake up.” You smile and notice the nurse is also smiling. "Sorry to interrupt you, I just—” she says, her cheeks turns pinky rose.

"I'm a big fan of both of you and seeing you like this melts my heart. You truly have such a beautiful relationship together..." Austin smiles and so do you. "That's so sweet from, thank you." he says, sounding relieved a little.

As the nurse leaves you, you suddenly member all the work that you guys left behind. “You’re supposed to be filming,” you say weakly. "I love my job, but to hell with the movie now,” he replies, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. “There’s only one thing that matters, and that’s you, remember? The movie can wait. You can’t.”

The door opens again, and a doctor stepping in to let you know the surgery would begin soon. Austin stands up holding your hand as they prepare to wheel you to the operating room.

“I’m proud of you,” he says quietly, bending down to press another kiss to your temple. “You’re the strongest woman I know. And when this is all over, I’ll carry you around the set myself if I have to.”

You laugh softly, the tension breaking slightly. “You’re gonna regret saying that when I take you up on it.”

“Never,” Austin says, his eyes shining with. “I love you, and we’re going to get through this together."

As they wheel you away, his hand stays in yours until the very last moment, his gaze locked on you as if willing all his strength and love into you. And as the doors swings close behind you, you know you've never been more certain of his devotion.

"Mr. Butler, you can wait in the waiting room if needed." the same nurse tells him. He nods, smiling warmly at her. Austin sits down on the couch, and waits till he knows you're okay.

Later...

As you open your eyes, blinking few times, before realizing where you are, you feel a warm hand taking yours. Suddenly you recognize the view — and the hand holding you. "Wakey, wakey," a familiar voice says.

You turn your head, finding Austin. He smiles at you. "How are you feeling, love?" he asks. Even tho you look like the most tired person alive as a result of anesthesia, he looks at you as if you are the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. And surely to him you are.

"Like someone ran me over, otherwise fine." you joke, making him laugh. Austin looks much more calm now. "You're so brave," he kisses your cheek, brushing his fingers through your hair. "I was here the whole time, waiting for you."

You look at the window, seeing it's dark outside already. "W-what? How about the filming?"

"I texted the director that I will be with you. He understood and said we should take our time." he explains. You just smile and squeeze his hand. "You're incredible, Butler," you laugh softly. "What time is it anyways?"

"Something after 9 pm?" Austin asks, not sure what the exact time is. The only thing he knows is that he would do anything for you to be okay, and will be by your side as much as needed.

"I love you, Mr. Butler." you say, holding his hand tightly.

"Love ya, my Mrs. Butler."

[prythianpages]

Stuck On You | Part Four

cassian x reader | Cassian can't seem to forget about you since the night you met seven years ago. he thought he would never see you again but when he does, he's determined to make you his. this time for good.

“Don’t worry. She likes your butt and fancy hair. I know, I read her diary.”

[series masterlist]

A/N: this was supposed to be the last part but I felt like it was becoming too long so I split it in half. I rewrote so many scenes from this so many times because I wasn't too happy with them but I think I finally am now. you can find my masterlist here.

Warnings: angst with mentions of violence/abuse/choking/death/killing

Closing the door behind you, you leaned against it, the dam of your emotions breaking through. You allowed the first tear to slide down your cheek. It was quickly followed by others and they burned, each one a painful reminder of the damage you had done. Trembling fingers pressed against your forehead, attempting to soothe the throbbing pain while your other hand found its place against your chest. Your actions were crushing your heart, making you feel like you couldn’t breathe.

What have you done?

Pushing Cassian away seemed necessary. For his safety. For yours. For Seraphine’s. It was for the best, you had to keep telling yourself. Yet, the ache in your chest betrayed that notion because if that was the case, why did it hurt so much?

There was a soft knock at your door. “y/n?”

You took deep breaths and wiped at your eyes with the sleeve of your shirt. A futile attempt to compose yourself. You didn’t want your little sister to see you like this. You were now the matriarch of your family. You had to be strong… or at least appear to be.

Nothing could’ve prepared you for the sight before you upon opening the door. Seraphine stood on the other side, her shoulders slumped and eyes glistening with tears. “Cassian left.”

“I know.”

She looked up at you. “Why does everyone leave?”

It seemed as though the shards of your broken heart had found new, more intricate ways to splinter. The weight of responsibility bore down on you. A burden you never intended to place on Seraphine’s shoulders.This was all your fault.

You drew in a steadying breath and crouched down to meet her at eye level. You gently wiped away her tears. “Not everyone,” you reminded her softly. “I’m still here. We’ll always be together.”

"You promise?" she whispered, her voice carrying the weight of a fragile hope.

Your eyes locked with hers. “I promise.”

The abrupt sound of a door slamming open startled you both. You jumped to your feet and Seraphine hid behind you. As you clasped her trembling hand in yours, the both of you cautiously walked to the living room. Aerik stood in the middle of the room. His features contorted into pure anger, filling the atmosphere with tension.

His eyes were scanning the house, chest heaving in anger. “Where the fuck is he?”

“He’s not here.” You replied, your voice a breathless whisper. “He’s gone.”

Aerik stormed over to you both. His hand wrapped around your arm, right where your healing bruise was, and he pressed harshly on it, prompting a cry from you. You looked up and were met with the white rage within Aerik’s eyes. His nostrils flared as he looked down at you, lips curled in disgust.

“Was Kallon’s warning not enough?” Aerik glared, intimidating you. “Should I inform him of your treason?”

He was grasping you by your other arm, yanking your grasp from Seraphine’s and forcing you closer to him. When you didn’t answer, he growled and tightened his grip. “You answer when spoken to.”

“Please don’t hurt her!” Seraphine cried as she darted toward you, coming to stand in between you both. She wrapped her arms around your waist, her back to her uncle and tiny wings wrapped around you as a shield. 

“Please don’t.” You managed to say. “I’m sorry for defying your wishes.”

Aerik stared at you, contemplating on what to do with you. Upon shifting his gaze to Seraphine, he realized he destroyed all the effort he had made with her the past days. There was a look of betrayal in her eyes, her lips quivering with fear and she tightened her hold on you when she met his gaze. The facade was gone. There was no purpose in keeping up pretenses anymore.

With a snarl, he yanked Seraphine away from you, not caring that his force sent the young girl stumbling and falling to the floor. She let out a cry and raw anger shot through you, flooding your veins.

“Don’t you dare touch her!”

Aerik scoffed as he turned his attention back to you. He stepped forward, prompting you to take a step back. He continued until your back hit the kitchen table and he had you cornered. “You are in no position to tell me what I can’t do.”

“Seraphine is my responsibility now.” He reminded you in a taunting manner, tightening a hand around your throat. He squeezed, eliciting a sharp gasp from you. He leaned down so close to you, you could feel his disgusting breath fan your face. Your fingers grasped at his, a futile attempt to pry his grip from you.

“Please stop hurting her, Uncle Aerik!”

“This is my house.” Aerik ignored your little sister’s cries and you dropped your hands, one of them falling behind your back, reaching for anything as the desperation to breathe and run to your sister overtook you. 

“I want you gone.” He seethed, his grip on you tensing. “Now.”

**

Azriel had noticed the change in Cassian lately, the heaviness in his steps, and the shadows lingering in his eyes. Despite the night hour, he invited Cassian to spar with him on the training grounds of the house of wind, hoping that it’d allow him to work out his pent up emotions and lift his spirits. Even if only temporarily.

The two Illyrians circled each other. Azriel's movements were fluid and precise, a stark contrast to Cassian, who appeared to be lost in thought. Cassian's punches lacked their usual force, and his defenses faltered. Azriel furrowed his brow, a deep concern for his friend settling in. Cassian was typically energetic and enthusiastic during training, reveling in the thrill of besting his opponents. Azriel had once remarked his haughty demeanor to be annoying, but now, he longed for one of Cassian's vain remarks.

In a swift move, Azriel feigned a strike, and Cassian, too distracted to react properly, lost his balance. He stumbled and fell to the ground, his frustration evident in the way his jaw tensed.

"Enough, Cassian," Azriel urged, crouching beside him. He knew why Cassian was so defeated, so disheartened. But he asked anyway.  "What's going on?"

Cassian sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair that had come undone from the elastic tie you had given him. "I just don’t understand why she’d push me away. I thought we were making progress…”

You had shattered Cassian’s heart. Yet, as promised, he continued to love you with all the fractured pieces left behind. He always would. No matter how much it hurt.

It required every ounce of his strength to resist turning back the last night he saw you. He would’ve begged on his knees for you. For you to not marry whoever Aerik had picked out for you. For you to come back with him to Velaris, where it would be safe for you and Seraphine. 

Then there was poor Seraphine, whose wounds from losing her parents were still fresh and apparent in the way she clung to anyone who offered her comfort. It dawned on him then–the reason for your protectiveness and hesitancy concerning your sister. The heart-wrenching look on her face when he was leaving haunted him.

 He should’ve begged on his knees, should’ve dug deeper into the distress reflected in your eyes. Gods, had he made a mistake in conceding to your wishes and not fighting for you? In letting you slip away?

“Then keep fighting for her, Cas.” Azriel told him, sensing where his thoughts had headed. He extended his hand out to Cassian, helping him up to his feet.

Cassian felt Azriel’s hand briefly stiffen before letting go. The shadows clinging to Azriel seemed to stir and come alive, swirling around him. A dark tendril emerged in the distance, curling against Azriel's ears before merging with the swarm of shadows, who eagerly welcomed the dark tendril back. By the way Azriel’s eyes narrowed, he could sense whatever his shadow had whispered was urgent.

“What is it?”

“It’s Kallon.” Azriel said, meeting Cassian’s gaze. “He’s sent some of his men to go look for y/n. Her and Seraphine are missing.”

The news jolted Cassian out of his emotional haze. Without another word, he unfurled his wings and soared into the sky, determination gleaming in his eyes. He was going to find you.

**

The air in the Inn was thick with the scent of burning wood from the fireplace, its warmth battling against the chill that seeped through the cracks in the walls. You and Seraphine found solace in a corner, sitting at a worn wooden table that creaked under your every move. It reminded you of the tavern back at Ironcrest, the familiarity of it filling you with a sad twinge of nostalgia.

Outside, the world was blanketed in a thin layer of snow. A promise of a strong winter to come. The winds howled, carrying with them the secrets of the desolate mountains that surrounded the humble establishment. It was your second night at the Inn located around the Illyrian Steppes. You were well familiar with it as it was a place you and your mother often frequented.

You adjusted the scarf around your neck self consciously, wanting to keep the evidence from two nights ago well hidden. Despite washing your hands until the skin was raw, all you saw was dark red. Blood. Aerik’s blood pooling around his head after you knocked him out with a vase. You had run to your sister to shield her from the gory scene, praying to the cauldron that she hadn’t caught a glimpse. If she had, she pretended as if she didn’t.

Your hands trembled as you helped Seraphine with her dinner, the memories of that night resurfacing again and again.

“Listen to me, Sera.” You had whispered, gently cradling her cheek in your hand and coaxing her worried gaze from your burning neck to meet yours. “I need you to pack some clothes, a few essentials—just the things you can't bear to leave behind–and do so quickly.”

Her eyes widened even more, confusion settling on her features. You understood the look on her face. At her age, you had been put in this position so often. It struck you now that the roles had reversed. “Why? This is our home. Uncle Aerik should leave.”

“It’s not safe here anymore. We have to go somewhere else, somewhere far away.”

A frown creased Seraphine's forehead. “Is that why you told Cassian to leave?”

“Yes and now it’s our turn.” You nodded solemnly, heart aching at the mention of his name. 

You blinked, your sister’s gentle touch pulling you from the sea of haunting memories that threatened to engulf you and drag you down into its dark abyss. “Yes?”

You met her worried gaze as it flitted from your face to your untouched plate. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

“Yes,” you said again, forcing a smile onto your face as you picked up a spoon. Seraphine watched you carefully with a concerned look on her face. She only relaxed once you had brought a spoonful of soup to your mouth. With a relieved smile, she returned to her own dinner. She hummed softly to herself, casting glances your way to make sure you were still eating.

As you and Seraphine finished your dinner, the doors to the Inn swung open. A gust of frigid air roared in, causing the flames in the fireplace to waver. Your gaze shot toward the entrance, as it did every time you heard the door open, heart skipping a beat when you recognized the sigils the males who had entered wore on their leathers. They were from Ironcrest. You watched them carefully as they approached the Innkeeper and panic set in as you overheard snippets of their conversations. Their inquiries directed toward two specific individuals. A small winged girl no older than a decade accompanied by a young female with no wings. You and Seraphine.

This place was no longer safe and you felt your stomach sicken, your dinner wanting to come right back up. The walls seemed to close in as the gravity of your situation became apparent. You felt like you couldn’t breathe, chest growing extremely tight. You watched as some of the males made their way upstairs, knowing exactly where they were headed and when the ones that had remained began to disperse, you knew you had little time. You had to run and you had to run now.

 You quietly instructed Seraphine to put her coat on, grateful that she hadn’t left it up in the room you were staying in as she would need it for the relentless weather outside. You were also grateful that your bow and arrow remained secured to your back. Seraphine barely had enough time to grab Scrumps, her plush, before the two of you were slipping and sneaking out through the back door of the Inn.

“Why are we running?” Seraphine said, wincing as the cold winds bit at her cheeks. “I left my coloring books in the room!”

“I’ll buy you more.” You reassured her, urging her to keep her pace with you as you ran into the forest.

You paused for a moment once you were deep into the forest to catch your breath, instantly regretting it. Your blood ran as cold as the wind whirling around you as you heard it. The crack of branches under the weight of heavy footsteps. Those approaching steps grew closer, and suddenly, an arrow whizzed by, narrowly missing your ear.

Seraphine’s frightened cry pierced the air and you swiftly scooped her into your arms. You held her close to your chest as you ran, determined to shield her from the impending danger. The bitter chill of the night bit through your worn boots as you raced through the unforgiving forest, the frosty tendrils of snow creeping into every crevice. Seraphine clung to your chest, her small form shivering against the cold and the fear that gripped you both. The haunting echo of arrows whistled through the air.

Suddenly, pain seared through your leg as an arrow found its mark, sending you sprawling to the ground with a desperate cry. You propped yourself up on your hands, sparing Seraphine the weight of your body. The harsh reality of your situation struck, but there was no time to dwell in the pain of it all. Your life was daring to flash before your eyes.

“Sera, you need to run.” Your voice strained with urgency as you came to the decision that you would distract the men to allow your sister a chance of escaping. A chance of living. 

“No,” she cried, shaking her head desperately.

Summoning every ounce of strength, you brought yourself to stand and helped your little sister up to her feet. “Sera, please.”

But Seraphine didn’t run. She stood by your side, frozen in place by both fear and loyalty. Her eyes betrayed her bewilderment at your request. “You promised we’d always be together.” She murmured in defiance. 

Another arrow pierced your shoulder from behind and you let out a sharp gasp in pain. You fumbled for your bow and arrow, wincing as the pain seared through you at every movement of your shoulder. Your eyes scanned the inky darkness for the men who were chasing you.

“There’s nowhere left to run.”

A male stepped out from the shadows, teeth flashing with a wicked grin. You recognized him as the one who had spoken with the Innkeeper. He casted a glance toward your sister, his eyes roaming over her body in a way that disgusted you. “You have something that belongs to us.”

“Sera, get behind me.” You instructed, not wanting her to witness what was about to unfold. She listened to your request this time, burying her face into your back. Her hands gripped tightly onto your uninjured leg.

The way the male continued to approach you and Seraphine hinted that he didn’t think you were capable of shooting at him. Your throat tightened. Your gaze fixed on his chest, right where his heart was beating. You’d never shot someone before. Your bow and arrow had only been used to hunt out of necessity, never for sport. But your hands were already stained red and if you wanted any chance of surviving, you had to. If not for yourself, then for your sister.

Pretending that you were hunting and the male in front of you was a deer, you drew the bowstring back, muscles tensing. You didn’t leave room for another moment to pass, for doubt to cross over your mind. You released and your arrow swiftly met its target.

More Illyrian males stepped out from the trees, coming to a stop once they saw you. Unlike the first male, they were heavily armed and upon seeing their companion bleeding out on the snow, the look they sent you had you shaking. Their siphons began to glow, their eyes following shortly after with a primal, savage anger that wanted to consume you whole. There were three of them. You only had two arrows left.

You notched another arrow onto the taut string of your bow, praying to the Mother for a miracle.

It seemed as if she answered you right away as a sudden burst of crimson light cast away the darkness around you. The ground beneath you trembled. Cassian emerged, his powerful presence radiating strength as he stood between you and the males. His back was to you, his wings extended protectively, blocking the males from you. 

“This is none of your business, bastard.” One of the males berated, attempting to assert dominance. He spat on the ground. “Stay out of it.”

“Oh,” Cassian said, his words cutting through the tension like a blade. “But it is my business.”

“All this for a murderous and thieving whore?” The male chuckled, having the nerve to challenge Cassian, despite his friends taking a step backwards. “Come on, you poor bastard. Even you can do better than that.”

 Each of Cassian’s siphons ignited, radiating an overwhelming crimson cascade of power. He let out a low, guttural growl. The sound seized attention and instilled fear in its wake. Even you felt the urge to bow down. Seraphine’s grip on your leg loosened but you urged her to keep her head pressed into your back, shielding her ears with your hands.

 He reached for the sword strapped down his spine, taking pleasure in the flash of fear in the male’s eyes. The snow crunched beneath his feet as he charged forward, killing the male who dared to challenge him with such ease that it filled him with disappointment. He didn’t have time to linger on it or turn to you as an arrow was soaring at him. 

He caught it with one hand, crushing it between his fingers. He turned to the two remaining males, who looked at him in horror. They fled like the cowards Cassian knew they were and he chased after them, hoping that they’d at least grant him the fight his Illyrian blood yearned for.

**

Your skin was cold and clammy, your heartbeat quickening as you willed yourself not to fall. The world around you began to blur. There was another thunderous sound and you could make out a flash of purple and obsidian…was that the High Lord’s voice? What was happening?

“y/n?” 

“M’okay,” you murmured to your sister but your voice was weak as the blood continued to seep from your wounds. You were caught in a disorienting whirlwind, where the world was spinning around you in a chaotic dance. The ground beneath you was becoming unsteady and you fell to your knees.

“y/n!” Seraphine’s voice was calling your name again but this time more frantic. You felt her tiny hands press against your wounds, a desperate attempt to keep your blood from escaping further. “You can’t leave me. You promised, y/n. You promised.”

The dizziness wrapped around you in its embrace and you gave in to it, wanting the world to stop spinning. Your eyelids fluttered shut, despite your sister’s cries. You didn’t want to leave her but you couldn’t help it. You were falling forward but instead of your face plummeting to the cold, hard ground, you found yourself falling into a warm and familiar embrace.

“I got you, Sweetheart.”

"Cassian." 

You uttered his name as if it were sacred, a relieved response to a cherished prayer, and then the world faded to black.

**

A dull ache permeated your body. Each breath, each movement was accompanied by a protesting soreness. The effort to open your eyes was met with resistance but when you finally fought through it, your surroundings were blurring in and out of focus.

Your senses gradually tuned in to the gentle embrace of the mattress beneath you and as the haze lifted from your vision, a realization unfolded. This wasn’t your room. It struck you then. Everything that had happened, a cascade of memories rushing back. 

“Sera,” you rasped, your body jolting forward and head whipping around. A searing pain shot through your shoulder but you ignored it as your eyes frantically searched for your sister, your breath catching.

“You’re awake.” A familiar voice exhaled with relief.

Warm hands cupped your face, guiding your head toward the source of the voice. Your eyes met a pair of warm hazel eyes and you allowed yourself to breathe again.

 “Cassian.”

Cassian smiled at you, cherishing the way his name sounded coming from your lips. You spoke his name as if it were a breath of fresh air, a tender exhale that swept through his soul like a gentle breeze. He’d never grow tired of it.

“Where are we?” You asked and then your eyebrows knitted together when you spotted Scrumps beside you. “Where’s Sera?”

“We’re in Velaris.” Cassian replied and at your blank stare, he added: “The City of Starlight. A hidden city in the Night Court. You and Sera will be safe here. Only the citizens and the High Lord’s closest friends know about this place.”

“And Se–”

“She’s with Azriel.”

You shifted forward and Cassian dropped his hands from your face to place them on your shoulder, carefully avoiding the area around your injured one to keep you from moving. Although Madja had taken care of you, the arrows the Illyrians from Ironcrest had used were laced with poison and while you were stable, it would take longer than expected for the puncture wounds on your shoulder and thigh to properly heal. 

“It’s okay, she’s alright.” Cassian reassured you. “You were out a whole day from your injuries. She wouldn’t leave your side at all. I was able to convince her to go eat breakfast but she would only go if I stayed by your side. She didn’t want you to wake up alone. Azriel offered to take her down for breakfast. She’s perfectly safe with him.”

You met his eyes again. “It’s not Azriel I’m worried about.”

Cassian shrugged his shoulders, waving off your concern. “Nothing he can’t handle, I’m sure.”

You sent him a look and then the two of you were bursting into laughter. 

You missed being with him. The first night you met, things had been so simple and easy flowing between you two. It was a stark contrast to the complexity that had since seeped into your relationship. A complexity you blame yourself for. You thought you were doing what was best but instead, you felt like you had ruined everything.

As the laughter subsided, a wave of remorse swept over you, turning the light moment heavy. Tears welled up and you gave in to them, not holding back. You were finally releasing all the emotional turmoil that had been building within that started with the loss of your mother. 

Cassian responded instinctively. His strong arms enveloped you, offering a comforting refuge from the storm of emotions raging within. This time, you let him. You buried your head into his chest, flooding your senses with his scent that soothed you and he nestled his in the crook of your neck. He held you close. So, so close. He could sense you were breaking within and wanted nothing more than to keep you whole. To wrap you in the safety of his arms until the storm within you subsided.

“Kallon,” you began as you pulled away just enough to speak. “He found out about your visits–he found out about what I was doing. Then, he found Aerik and they both came into the tavern one night. He threatened to hurt you, hurt Seraphine, and then me if you came over again…–”your voice broke as you sharply inhaled and the tears were coming down again.  “--He said he’d save me for last so I could watch.”

“I’m so sorry for lying to you. I should’ve told you. But I–I couldn’t.I asked you to leave. Not because I wanted to but because I was scared and I didn’t want you or Sera to get hurt. And then Aerik came home after he saw you. He wanted to take Sera away from me. He wanted to–he–he was–oh gods. I–I killed–”

“It’s okay,” his voice was a soft murmur, not needing to hear more. He saw the bruises littering your neck earlier. He steadied his breath, resting his head on top of yours.  “You’re safe now.”

“I’m sorry.” You cried against Cassian’s chest, tears flowing freely and staining the fabric of his shirt. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” he told you, his voice soothing amidst the discord of your emotions.

“I pushed you away. I hurt you.” 

“You were only trying to protect your sister. I understand.” Cassian reassured you. It tore him apart to see you like this and it destroyed him even more that he had unintentionally played a role in it. If he had just stayed, if he had refused to leave, Aerik wouldn’t have been able to lay his hands on you. Those Illyrian males wouldn’t have been able to harm you.

“I don’t deserve your kindness. Your hospitality.” You said as your regret continued to pour out. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Nonsense.” Cassian was quick to respond, his arms holding you tighter as if trying to shield you from your own self-doubt. You could hear his steady heartbeat, a rhythmic reassurance, yearning to steady the erratic cadence of your own. “You deserve everything and so much more.”

As the tears subsided, Cassian tilted your chin upward, meeting your gaze with a tender intensity. “I meant what I said,” he whispered softly. “I loved you then and I love you now. I will always love you.”

“If there’s even the slightest chance that you feel the same, I’ll wait for you. I’ve waited seven years to have you by my side. I’ll wait seven more or however long it takes. And if you can’t open your heart to me, that’s okay too. I’ll be your friend. But please,” he said, his voice a soft plea as his eyes fluttered shut. “Please don’t push me away. I'd rather be your friend than nothing at all because I don’t want to let you go. I can’t let you go.”

Your eyes still glistened with traces of your emotion and he wiped them away, his nose brushing against yours.

“I don’t want to let you go either.”

Silence fell as the two of you looked at each other, locked in a gaze overwhelmed with yearning and longing. You were willing to let him in again. There was hope. A soft, shared breath of anticipation passed through you both. And then Cassian was bridging the small distance between you. 

He cupped your face as he kissed you, his lips moving against yours with a gentle urgency. He moved to deepen the kiss, teetering on the balance of passion and restraint. His chest pressed against yours and you could feel his heartbeat. It was quicker now and as it met yours, you surrendered to it, your heartbeat matching his in a timeless rhythm.

series masterlist

tagging: @kemillyfreitas, @wallacewillow0773638 @justdreamstars @63angel @fightmedraco

a/n: if you asked to be tagged and I didn't, I'm so sorry. Please let me know so I can tag you for the last part! thank you so much for reading and your comments. I love reading them! the next part should be up soon, I just need to finish one more scene &lt;;3 you'll get to see another fun scene between Azriel and Seraphine in the next part lol, I debated on whether including it here but decided to save all the fluff for the next part

[rachetmath]

Favorite Jaune Ship

Okay, let me do this. My Jaune ships. Other ships I’ll do later.

Lancaster/SilverKnight (Jaune x Ruby);

This ship still holds a special place in my heart and to me was supposed to be one of the factors of the show. Jaune and Ruby's relationship started at Beacon. Jaune was Ruby’s first friend and was the first thought of being a part of a team besides her sister. Unfortunately, she was stuck with Weiss and Jaune had a crush on her. Ruby has times when she and Jaune talk but were always cut short for reasons. However, after the fall of Beacon, I was happy to see her and Jaune team up. But my hopes were short-lived when Weiss and Oscar came onto the scene. Now, because of them, the one relationship I could support died because the story tries its damndest to push Whiteknight and Rosegarden together. (Like seriously, this is one of the reasons why I hate Oscar to this day. Volume five, to this day, I believe Jaune should have unlocked his semblance for Ruby instead of Weiss.)

DragonKnght/GoldenKnight/DragonSlayer(Jaune x Yang);

Now normally this is a crack ship. This ship is just two people boning for almost no reason, but I can see a story behind this ship with Jaune and Yang being an alternate version of Tai and Raven. Jaune is Raven because both  have supportive semblances, use swords, and have a distaste for Ozpin’s methods. Yang is Tai due to mainly being raised by him alone. Throughout the story, we see how Jaune and Yang interact and how their relationship differs from Tai and Raven’s. How Tai and Raven fell apart and what they should’ve done to maintain it. How Jaune and Yang handle situations differently they’ll always find a way to bounce back by talking it out and giving each other space. Though I believe Bumblebee fans would be offended and probably say, “Blake could add that same effect”, I still stand by this.

SilentKnight(Jaune x Neo)

Cute, deadly, and very sad. I haven't read the book but I have heard about it. Also, I wish they made a movie starring her or gave us an episode but… okay. Back on topic, I find this ship enduring. They have only one thing in common but that's enough to create a dynamic between them. However what makes the ship sad is that Neo will be the only one hurt. Image Neo trying to be Ruby just to be with Jaune only for him not wanting to be with her. Loving and caring for Ruby more than Neo. Neo hates and becomes jealous of Ruby because unlike her Neo has no friends. Roman died. And Cinder betrayed her. Jaune probably being the best thing in her life but she will never have. So sorry folks, Silentknight was a no-go.

Topaz (Jaune x Emerald)

Same as Silent Knight except it's Emerald’s loyalty to Cinder getting in the way of her having any relationship with anyone. Jaune probably would talk to her but trusting her could be too much of a stretch for him. Emerald might as well be one of the few who could talk to Jaune one-on-one and be real with him but still, I don't think neither of them is looking to like each other.

Knightshade (Jaune x Blake)

These two never had a single one-on-one conversation. Like really they barely interact with each other. I would not be surprised if they both got drunk somewhere and were found sleeping in the same bed by accident. But I believe they are good friends.

Knightfall (Jaune x Cinder)

Okay, this can go either way. Jaune is done playing the good guy to a bunch of girls who are favored by everyone and want to destroy the world. Cinder decides to be a good person and wants to redeem herself. I highly doubt this would happen but I love the concept. Imagen Jaune has to tell Cinder to chill out all the time. Then having to be the most patient with her especially when following a plan. Cinder trying to be nice but pushing her feelings down so she doesn't show weakness is funny, sad, and insane.  

Martial Arc and Nora's Arc(Jaune x Ren x Nora)

You two do not deserve him. You had four volumes to talk with this man but you didn't. Ruby knows your leader better. Yang treats your leader better. Shit Weiss treated your leader better. Ya’ll barely maintain a relationship with each other. How will you two be in a relationship with this guy if you can't contribute or commit to it? F*** the both of you.

Whiteknight(Jaune x Weiss)

Okay, now this may be my f*** all worst ship. First, I’ll admit Jaune was just a fanboy seeing his female idol for the first time in real life. But as he continues he eventually gets over her a bit. Then in some way, he does try to get with Pyrrha, who was an upgrade. What I don't like about this ship is unlike Lancaster it feels forced. Like in volume five Weiss got stabbed by Cinder for no reason. It should have been Ruby considering Jaune traveled and spent more time with her than Weiss. And Cinder hates Ruby. Then in volume seven she basically used the man to get away from Bumblebee. And the only time she ever acknowledged this man was in volume nine when he turned out to be her favorite character in a story. I may be wrong but no, this is not my favorite.

[wcbblife]

Here with you

a/n: sorry if its short! Hope you enjoy. Based on this request.

It had been terrible. The whole scene replayed in your mind, haunting you as the soft beeping of machines filled the background. You had gone up for a shot, just like countless times before, but this time was different. As soon as you landed on the wooden floor, a blinding pain had taken over your knee, causing you to collapse.

A non-contact injury.

The following moments had been a blur. The initial tear, the panicked voices around you, the ambulance trip, and finally waking up in the hospital. You remembered bits and pieces, but mostly you just wished the pain would end.

“Babe, you’re shaking,” Juju whispers, her voice breaking through the haze. She’s been by your side the entire time, and now she flies up from the chair next to your bed to sit closer.

“It hurts so much,” you manage to croak out, your lip caught between your teeth as you try to distract yourself from the tears welling in your eyes.

“I know, baby,” she murmurs, her eyes filled with concern. She takes your hand gently, tracing random patterns on the back of it.

The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor and the faint hum of fluorescent lights added to the surreal feeling of the situation. You couldn't help but think about the season ahead, the practices you'd miss, and the long recovery process.

Juju continued to stroke your hand, her touch grounding you. "I'm going to be here every step of the way," she assured you. "We'll get through this together. You'll be back on that court before you know it."

____

Then after a while you were back home. The soft couch in the living room, the cozy blankets, the scent of home—it all felt like a haven. Yet, the pain and the fear of what lay ahead lingered in your head.

Juju was there, as always, by your side. She had prepared everything meticulously, ensuring that your transition from the hospital to home would be as smooth as possible.

“Easy does it,” Juju murmured, her arms steady as she helped you from the car to the front door. Every step sent a ripple of pain through your knee, but her support made it bearable. “Just a few more steps.”

Once inside, she guided you to the couch, arranging the cushions just right to prop up your leg. The ice pack she retrieved from the freezer was a welcome relief as she gently placed it over your knee.

“Better?” she asked, her eyes full of concern.

You nodded, grateful for her care. “Yeah, thanks, Juju.”

“Good.” She smiled, a spark of relief in her eyes. “Now, I’ve got everything you might need. Water, your meds, snacks… And I made your favorite soup.”

The aroma of the soup wafted in from the kitchen, a comforting reminder of normalcy. Juju busied herself, making sure everything was within your reach. She even set up a little bell on the coffee table, insisting you ring it if you needed anything.

“You don’t have to do all this, Juju,” you said, feeling a mix of gratitude and guilt.

She shook her head, sitting beside you and taking your hand. “I want to. You mean everything to me, and I’ll do whatever it takes to help you heal.”

As the afternoon stretched into evening, Juju stayed close, her arms wrapped around you in a comforting embrace. She kept you company as you rested, occasionally brushing soft kisses against your temple.

Juju watched you quietly, noticing the way your eyes fluttered shut in exhaustion. She knew you needed rest and understood the pain that accompanied every slight movement you made.

"Babe," Juju said softly, getting up kneel beside you. "Let me help you to bed."

You managed a tired nod, grateful for her offer. With Juju's gentle guidance, you struggled to your feet, leaning heavily on her for support. The injury protested with a sharp twinge, causing you to wince.

"Easy, love," Juju murmured, wrapping her arm around your waist to steady you. "I've got you."

"I'm sorry," you muttered through clenched teeth, trying to suppress a groan of pain.

Juju's brow furrowed with concern as she wrapped her arm around your waist, providing stability as you limped towards the bedroom. "Don't apologize," she whispered. "You're doing great. Just take it slow."

As you reached the edge of the bed, another wave of exhaustion washed over you, threatening to pull you under. Your knees buckled slightly, and Juju's grip tightened around you, her arms providing a steady anchor.

"It's okay, sweetheart," Juju whispered, her voice a soothing melody. "Just take it slow."

With Juju's assistance, you eased yourself onto the bed, the soft mattress cradling your weary body. You let out a relieved sigh, sinking into the pillows as the tension began to melt away. Without hesitation, she sank down beside you, her arms wrapping around you in a comforting embrace.

[delirious-donna]

Who? [Kiba Inuzuka]

an: this is a repost of an old story I wrote for @tired-biscuit who we all know is the biggest kiba girlie on the planet. I've reworked it and added an extra 2k (sorry not sorry). Hopefully, it gets a few reads.

pairing: Kiba Inuzuka x female reader

warnings: NSFW, modern AU, friends to lovers trope, characters in late 20s, angst, toxic males (sorry Asuma, Obito, Itachi and Hidan simps!), pussy eating, blowjob after sex, unprotected sex, cum swallowing, biting and marking.

Masterlist

He eyed you with the utmost disdain.

Glowing amber eyes raked from the toes of your scuffed Converse to the brim of the baseball hat that peeked from under your hoodie. A sleek dark eyebrow rose, stern in admonishment of your haggard appearance and you could scream at him for it.

You knew you looked god awful—felt it too—but did he need to sneer quite so fucking openly? Even from the door of the coffee shop, you knew he was going to give you absolute hell, motherfucker couldn't help himself at the best of times. Some best friend he was.

Kiba Inuzuka appeared his usual well-put-together self, the epitome of the aloof bad boy that most girls had that annoying phase of wanting more than reason should allow. Sickening really, but you loved him regardless. Platonically, of course… of course.

He sat with arms crossed at your favoured table in the back corner, his arms tightly crossed over his wide chest and forcing the cotton of the black tee he wore to work to its limit to contain the muscles beneath. You spied his foot stretched out as he practically manspread in his chair, and the ominous tap of his heavy biker boot sounded like the tolls of a church bell as you walked toward him and your doom.

The strands of his chestnut brown hair were tousled in a sexy 'I just got fucked' style that was meant to look like he had rolled right out of whatever bed he had spent the previous night in. However, you knew the truth of it. That particular look took him a straight forty-five minutes to perfect each morning, and you were tempted to ruffle your hand through it just to piss him off more but you didn’t have a death wish–not today.

You always gave him shit for how long it took him to get ready in the mornings, many a time in your college years you had screeched about him being worse than the girls, and you were not wrong. If any of his floozies were to find out about his skincare regime their little airhead brains would likely implode from shock. Perhaps you should never have taught him that he needed to use more than bar soap on his face each morning, for the man owned more luxury beauty products than you did now.

"You look like shit," he offered with a shit-eating grin on his annoyingly handsome and punchable face.

The onset of summer highlighted the fresh dusting of freckles on his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, and his usual sun-kissed skin darkened further from the abundance of scorching sunlight. Kiba was a true summer child, not something you shared with him as you opted to hide from the dangerous rays of the sun until the weather cooled into a more agreeable autumn temperature.

"Well, fuck you too, dickhead!"

You threw yourself haphazardly into the opposite chair, face screwed up from the squeal of metal on the polished floor and pouted.

"Could've at least bought me a drink. Not like you don't know what I like," you moaned sullenly.

Glancing over your shoulder you could see the line was almost at the door, and the thought of standing in it to get your much-needed fix of caffeine sounded like hell on earth. With your best puppy dog eyes, you rounded back to Kiba who was watching you fixedly, jaw set in a firm line.

"Oh no. I already stood in that queue, had to almost sell my soul to Satan himself to get the last apple danish. It's not my fault that you're so hungover that you can't face standing up for longer than a minute," he all but yelled at you.

Kiba was more pissed than you had expected, you must have really caused a scene for him to be this level of mad at you. Caffeine was your biggest weakness, and he knew it. Groaning loudly as you rubbed at your aching temples, you tried to replay the snippets of what you remembered from the previous night.

Anger snapped at your fingers. The burn of absolute fury had you rubbing at your chest in discomfort, and you well remembered the slap you had landed with the stinging pain that still lingered on your palm. A face you would much rather forget loomed into your mind's eye, tall and dark-haired. A cocky lopsided smile on his face as he tried to wave away your well-founded accusations.

Goddamn Obito Uchiha, he was the devil incarnate. Nothing but a cheating scumbag that had promised you the world but in the end gave you only hell and one heck of a headache.

You could recall the heated whispers of your girlfriends, the words that had curdled your stomach and caused your pulse to pound in your ears. Your boyfriend had been seen by multiple reliable sources engaged in acts that should solely be reserved for you. He had fallen back into the arms of his ex, and he didn't even have the decency to end things before he went and stuck his dick in her.

Sure, you could have handled things better, you knew that, but he had it coming to him.

"Kiba," you whined, "I know that I probably didn't do myself any favours last night, but you can't tell me that he wasn't asking for it? The bastard cheated on me! A slap to the face was hardly the end of the world..."

You fell silent whilst his stare iced over instantly.

The warmth of his amber-flecked eyes was gone in a heartbeat, cold fury descended over his face as he leant forward with his arms braced on the table. You couldn't help but admire the black ink that ran from his left elbow and slipped beneath the sleeve of his fitted t-shirt. His bicep flexed as he pointed a thick finger in your face.

"Are you serious? You think I'm pissed at you for throwing a piss poor slap at that self-centred prick?" he hissed through clenched teeth.

"Be quiet," he added as your mouth popped open to shoot back your reply.

"Course he deserved it, and the rest of what he got..."

You frowned at the ominous statement in confusion, suddenly eyeing his hands intently, and as you had suspected, the knuckles were raw and split open in places. That only ever happened when… Icy dread whispered down your spine at the unwelcome thought.

"What I am downright furious about is the scene you made after that slap. Don't you remember shouting your damn head off, screeching like a fucking banshee for 'that bitch' as you called her? Must have slipped your mind that you stormed right across the bar, literally pushing over your friends that just wanted to help and then threw up all over the pinball machine, yeah?"

You blanched, literally feeling the colour drain from your face as you did indeed recall flashes of what he spat at you so venomously. All you wanted was for the ground to open up and swallow you whole, instead, you raised your hands to cover your face, or at least, you tried.

A rough hand wrapped around your wrist and forcefully removed it from your mortified face.

"Uh-uh, I got more to say and you are gonna listen, so perk those little ears up mama. I could forgive you yelling like a lunatic and spewing your load, god knows I'm more than aware you're such a damn lightweight. What I cannot forgive is you running out the door and going fuck knows where!"

He was getting louder and you cringed.

It felt like a thousand eyes were on the pair of you, and it made the introvert in you crumble like a sandcastle being overwhelmed by the ocean. You had wondered why you'd awoken in your childhood bedroom, why the window was wide open and your dad was holding a baseball bat over his head as you emerged from the cocoon of bedsheets. Old habits die hard and sneaking in and out of your bedroom window proved to be one of them even though you had long moved out of your parents’ home.

Your mouth was drier than a desert, tongue heavy in your mouth as Kiba finished his tirade. He huffed through his nose like an angry bull, and with only the jut of his jaw, he silently demanded a response. The problem was, you didn't know what to say, surely you were out of excuses for the poor choices you had made. It seemed like this was a cycle you were meant to repeat from now until the end of time.

Step One – find a new boyfriend who would quickly become your obsession.

Step Two – Kiba would either know them already or meet them only to immediately disapprove and ask you to end things. Ask was putting it mildly too.

Step Three – you and he would argue like squabbling schoolchildren until one of you stormed out, resulting in a period of silence.

Step Four – said boyfriend would reveal his true colours in the most atrocious of ways and annoyingly prove Kiba right time and again.

Step Five – Kiba picked up the broken pieces of your heart and soul, glueing them back together with an ever-patient hand. Although he never failed to tell you, ‘I told you so.’

Repeat.

Shame burned in your chest, the feeling filled you from head to toe and it was enough to intensify the headache that crested through your brain like waves on a turbulent sea. All this and you had no damn coffee to at least take the very edge off your misery.

What could you say?

You had acted like a selfish brat with those actions, your friend had every right to be angry at you and it was only then you noticed the dark shadows that lingered beneath Kiba's eyes. You grabbed his hand and held it tightly in your own when he tried to withdraw, pulling it toward you.

"Please don't tell me you've been up all night cause of me?"

He shrugged and again tried to pull his hand free, but he didn't truly fight you. It was evident to both of you that if he wanted to retrieve his hand, he would be able to do so with ease. He grunted in reply and looked pointedly over your shoulder.

Fuck!

"I'm sorry," you whispered with a slight hiccup, fighting the flow of tears that threatened to spill upon the bougie-looking rustic tabletop. A fingertip traced a gnarled knot, it grounded you and kept you from completely losing it.

"Kiba, please. I'm sorry, it won't happen again. I know I've said that before but I mean it, I do, I promise. No more idiots and no more making an absolute fool of myself."

"I'll believe it when I see it."

His tone had returned to a more amicable level, with a smirk unfolding on his lips and you knew that the worst of the storm was over.

Worry had been at the core of his fury, not knowing where you were until you had texted him upon waking at your parent’s house. Frantic fingers flew across the keys whilst listening to your dad's yells of indignation about how you should have used the damn front door instead of climbing in through your old bedroom window.

This really was the straw to break the camel's back.

It was exhausting, the emotional toll enough to have you curled into a tight ball on most nights. True that the highs were intoxicatingly good, but the lows were soul-suckingly abysmal. It was time that you stopped endlessly chasing around after men who were never worth your time and effort. Maybe if you stopped searching, the right man would find you instead.

"I'm done, I promise," you reiterated with a steely determination in your eye.

Kiba tipped back in his chair, assessing your words and finding them to be genuine. His normal goofy smile manifested and it was like the first ray of sunshine you had seen in weeks. He truly was the best friend you could ever ask for, and when he stood with a sigh, you realised you couldn't love him anymore.

"Caramel macchiato?"

Or could you?

–

Kiba had known it wouldn't last, it never did, so why would this time be any different?

The trouble was that he adored you from the tip of your sharp tongue right down to your uncoordinated feet that stumbled and fumbled no matter how hard you tried to keep your balance. The pair of you had been friends since your schooldays and you were both prominent figures within your wider social group. What he didn't like about you, and was not quiet about, was your god-awful taste in men.

You couldn't help it, you were downright adorable so of course, men were always gonna be drawn to you, but did you have to pick the worst scumbags imaginable? He had never believed that one person could get it wrong over and over without at least learning some kind of lesson. It must be some kind of imbalance in your brain and it was astonishing, to say the least.

Over the years you had gone through phases, such as the bad boy stage where you swore blind that you could reform idiotic womanizing players like Asuma Sarutobi. Everyone and their grandmother knew that Asuma could not keep his eyes, and hands, off the ladies. It was never going to matter how many times in a day you fucked him, he was destined to stray and stray he did.

Kiba was there to pick up the pieces, to reassure you that it was most definitely his loss, and no, he didn't think you needed to lose any fucking weight! Why would you even think that? He didn’t always understand women and the fascination with weight was his biggest bugbear. 

Then there was the sophiscated phase which he referred to as the smugly quiet phase. Itachi Uchiha was only a few years older than you but damn did he act like he was a motherfucking elder. The condescending smiles, the little tuts and eye rolls at what he deemed to be childish acts and that low almost monotonous tone that spoke volumes about his feelings, or lack thereof.

Again, Kiba had warned you off but you chose to ignore him as usual.

Instead, he waited until Itachi sat you down and told you abruptly that you were too immature for him, effectively breaking your heart in all the time it took him to blink those feminine-looking long dark eyelashes of his. Kiba was there for you to cry upon his shoulder, to wipe your snotty nose and assure you that you were not immature, that dude was just an old ass fuddy-duddy.

Obito had simply been the latest in a long line of utter morons, and part of him had desperately hoped you would keep your word this time. The one thing he was glad about was that you had never dated within your friendship circle, though it hadn't stopped some of the guys from trying.

You would never know about the times he had forcibly taken aside the likes of Naruto and Shikamaru, the muttered threats of mortal wounds and outright death if they so much as dared to touch you. Kiba was always met with nervous chuckles, reassuring pats on the shoulder and hastily sworn oaths that they would keep their distance. Shikamaru had even looked downright pleased with himself, as if he knew something that Kiba didn’t and that encounter had lingered with him for a long while.

It had been a good month since you swore 'til you were blue in the face that you were done chasing men, a record for you but it had all come tumbling down when Hidan entered the fray.

Hidan–a dude who swore he had no last name. Seriously, who did he think he was, the goddamn pope? Perhaps he should have taken that final step much like Prince had done and changed his name into a symbol, it certainly wouldn't have made him any more pretentious.

The man clearly thought he was the next messiah and Kiba had taken an instant dislike to him. This time it was different and he couldn't shake the fear that gripped his heart. Worry gnawed at him, the sense that his guy was more than capable of drawing you into things that could endanger you. The saying goes that you should listen to your gut and Kiba took that very literally. His every instinct screamed of danger and put him on high alert for trouble.

Weeks had passed since you two first started dating and although he desperately wanted to teach you a lesson by giving you the usual silent treatment until you snapped, he refrained. Something stopped him, a niggling doubt that poked him at the most random of times. He wasn’t about to let something befall you on his watch, he’d never forgive himself if it did.

Instead, he watched much like a predator would, assessed this cocky-ass male and learned his weaknesses. Kiba knew Hidan hated to be called out on things, his word was law in his mind and that just grated on the Inuzuka to the worst possible level.

He remembered well the night that Hidan had cornered him as he left the bar restroom, his fist thundering into the wall next to his head in an attempt to intimidate him. It didn't take much for Kiba to snap, yet he managed to hold on to his composure this time. Fought to retain his sanity tooth and nail because he would not play into Hidan's hands, for this was a game to him.

"You wanna fuck her, dontcha?"

"Killing you to know that it's my dick that she sits on each and every chance she gets, huh? Cock hungry little slut that she is."

The inflammatory words had been like grenades exploding behind his eyes, what an utter cunt he was for speaking about you in such a derogatory manner. Kiba had stuffed his white-knuckled fists deep into his pockets, biting his tongue and pushing away from the sneering male without further incident.

In hindsight he was shocked that he had managed to keep it together and not outright punched the fucker–he wanted to–but then again so had Hidan. It was a part of his plan to isolate you, to keep you from your friends and family so that he could steal all your time and attention. He was the definition of a toxic male.

Manipulative fucker!

The Inuzuka drained his beer and let his head fall back against the couch cushions. He was at his wit's end, there was no plan to swirl inside his rampant brain that seemed likely to work.

How long had he ignored his feelings for you?

Too long was the answer. He doubted you were ever going fall into his arms as he wished, but he satisfied himself with being your ever-constant rock. If he could not have you, he would make damn sure that whoever was lucky enough to steal your heart treated you like a princess.

It hurt his heart, but it was better than the emptiness that came with the alternative.

Tired eyes looked towards his phone that was buzzing incessantly on the couch beside him, he palmed the device and looked at the screen to find your name illuminated like a beacon in the darkness of his lounge. He schooled his features although he knew you could not see him and answered the call.

"What's up?"

–

You were a dumbass.

There was no other way to describe how dense you were when it came to your love life. You had to wonder if you had a sign above your head that attracted the absolute worst of mankind to swarm you like insects. Was there something wrong with you? Were you actually a bad person who didn't deserve to be loved?

You made your way to the apartment you knew as intimately as your own.

Feet carrying you ever forward, speeding you towards comfort in the arms of Kiba. He would make it all better, wouldn't he?

For once, you didn't know if he could. There were only so many times you could be knocked down before you could no longer get back up and it was getting harder and harder to find your feet.

Tears threatened to fall but you refused. Curling your hands into tight fists until your nails sank into the flesh, close to puncturing the skin but not quite. It grounded you and kept the tears at bay. How long it would last, you weren't sure.

The ache in your chest eased as Kiba answered the door with worry prominent on his features. Pinched brow and pristine white teeth gnawing his lower lip in earnest. Even before you could step inside, he was reaching for you, dragging you into his strong embrace and wrapping you in his essence.

You sank into him willingly, inhaling his musky spice-infused scent until you were filled with it. It felt like stepping into a perfectly hot bath after a long exhausting day, the tension from your muscles draining away whilst you sagged against the chest that rose and fell in harmony with your own. Kiba wrapped one arm wrapped around your lower back, a thumb rubbing against you in soothing motions whilst the other cradled your head and let you settle into his broad shoulder.

Why couldn't all the men in your life be like this?

Kiba accepted you for who you were and had no interest in changing you into something that would better suit him. His soul was filled with warm light, you saw it through the amber flecks in his eyes, the adorable dimple appearing on his right cheek when he smiled broadly and through his caring actions.

"Tell me everything babe," he cooed softly into your mussed hair, ruffling the strands with his breath.

Where to begin?!

You spent the next hour filling in your longtime friend with every dreaded detail from this afternoon, sipping cautiously on a beer that he offered you once seated on his squishy leather couch. The last thing you wanted to do was succumb to alcohol, but one would settle your nerves you reasoned.

"I knew that guy was a motherfucker," Kiba hollered from the kitchen.

Rolling your eyes at the sheer joy that laced his gravelly tone, you turned to find him bent over searching the fridge aimlessly. His tight butt swayed in the hold of his black jeans, it was such a nice backside and if you were in a better mood you might have tiptoed closer to give it a good hard smack. He’d deserve it.

"Mr Kiba 'I knew he was a motherfucker' Inuzuka. Can't you ever give me a break?"

It hadn't bothered you this much when he first said it, but the more you repeated the words, the more fury infused your veins. It hit you like a tidal wave, turning you from weepy sadness to burning anger in less than a minute.

You popped to your feet, pacing back and forth whilst your fists clenched and unclenched at your sides. Wary amber eyes followed your movements, closing the fridge door with a hard thud that made the magnets rattle. Magnets you had gifted that asshole. The grim set of his jaw was back, irritation so quick to line his features until you were both scowling at one another.

"The fuck? Why have you always got to be so fucking high and mighty? You ain't perfect either, you know!" You were yelling now, raw emotion burning your throat and turning your body into a literal inferno.

"High and mighty? You gotta be joking me. Watch your damn mouth, my patience will only remain for so long. I suggest you calm the fuck down and sit down as well!"

He was making it worse, where was his usual compassion when you stormed like this?

"Or what Kiba? You gonna chuck me out?" You snorted through your nose and missed the flash of pure rage that flitted through his blown-wide pupils.

All six foot two of him towered above you, so close you could feel the heat roiling off his body and licking at your flesh. The back of your legs caught the edge of the glass coffee table and he was grabbing at your upper arms in an instant.

You gasped when his fingers dug into the meat of your arms until you almost yelped out for him to stop. Head tipped back and heart thundering from an evil cocktail of anger and bitterness, you straight up growled at him like a dog ready to lunge and attack.

"When are you going to open your fucking eyes?" he whispered, low and so very dangerous that the hairs on the nape of your neck prickled to attention.

Too wrapped in your own negative emotions, you failed to comprehend his words fully. Oblivious to the storm of desire that was rapidly rising to the surface in the male fixing you in place. You ignored his words and spat more venom at him in an attempt to get him to release you.

"When was the last time you even got laid Kiba? Haven't seen any of your airheads flouncing about in forever. They made me sick to my stomach with their simpering eyes out on stalks, drooling over you like you were some kind of fucking god."

He let go in a moment of startled surprise as your words found their mark, and you stormed towards the door only to have your wrist captured in a rough hand. Kiba pulled you back to him, the tug was so forceful that your chest bumped into his and your free hand flew to the wall of steel that was his chest in an attempt to balance yourself.

"Jealous?" he seethed, lowering his face until you were practically nose to nose

Had you been in your right mind, you might have taken a moment to process that incredibly loaded question and see it for what it actually was. Instead, your primal instincts found themselves firmly in the driving seat as a war cry pounded in your ears and a tightness grew heavy in the pit of your stomach.

You snatched your hand back and grabbed two fistfuls of his stupid tousled chestnut hair, pressing yourself onto your tiptoes to reach his wickedly curled lips.

This was no soft kiss, it was cruel and punishing.

Lips met, teeth gnashed and snarls sounded from both of your throats as Kiba reacted in kind. His hands were not gentle as he cupped your face, one hand stealing into your hair and wrapping it around his fist. He pulled, forcing your throat to strain taut and ripping your mouth away from his with a hiss.

White-hot fury veiled your vision in red. His sharp almost fang-like incisors sank into your vulnerable neck, harsh and selfish as he marked you for his own. Greedy lips followed the exquisite sting of pain, sucking at the skin indented by his teeth until the entire area would be bruised and tender to the touch when your sanity returned.

You didn't know what made you say it, the words were out of your mouth before you took note of them.

"Seems like you've been the jealous one.” Kiba froze against your frantic pulse point.

His eyes were positively feral, the pupils almost entirely swallowing his normally warm amber irises. Cheeks dabbled in rough whiskers from the late hour and the tendon from neck to collarbone straining from exertion. Kiba levelled you with a dangerous stare and you couldn't help but look away to admire his forearms instead of succumbing to his piercing gaze. The sleeves of his open shirt rolled to the elbows–a look that had you weak at the knees at the best of times–and the strength in those corded muscles was obvious to your appreciative eye.

"That’s right, m’gonna make you forget about those stupid assholes that didn't know what a treasure they had. Their loss is my gain. If you want this," he pointed to himself to emphasise the point, "if you want me, then come get it."

Without a backwards glance, he stormed to the island in his kitchen and left you there… alone and bereft of his overwhelming heat. Kiba stood with his lower back resting against the counter, one ankle crossed over the other and his arms folded as he watched you. His muscled chest heaved with every laboured breath, cheeks ruddy from the kiss you’d shared and there was a more than subtle bulge on the front of his jeans.

Did you want him, your best friend Kiba?

Hell yeah, you did!

Annoyed by your own oblivious stupidity, the puzzle pieces clicked together in your head. Kiba was downright sexy, his physique godly and a face that was both rugged and angelic depending on his mood. He was funny, a total goofball who made it his mission to keep you laughing until you were clutching your stomach and begging for mercy. A social butterfly who ensured he gave his friends equal attention, he knew every birthday and often was the ringleader of group outings and meetups.

He was your Kiba.

The person you relied upon most in the world, your constant and when you tried to imagine a world without him, it stole your breath until you were crippled by the agony. Had you been jealous of his idiotic little girlfriends? Yes, you always wanted to be the centre of his universe and they distracted from that. You had tried to mask it as a dislike for his taste in women but most of his exes had been perfectly nice if you had given them the time of day to get to know.

It was clear, that you wanted him.

You ran.

Four long strides and you threw yourself into his quickly outstretched arms. He caught you –of course, he did –bearing your weight with practised ease as you wrapped around him like climbing ivy. Hands fisting into the t-shirt that lay beneath his shirt as you found his mouth once more, sought to reclaim it and make your intentions crystal fucking clear.

This time the kiss was more tender, yet the passion was still as ardent and heady. His wide hands roamed your hips until he was kneading the meat of your ass through your pants and making your lower half grind against him in sinful bliss. The zipper of his jeans pressed against your centre through the layers of clothes and you moaned openly into his mouth.

Kiba was famished, he swallowed your lewd noises and was quick to incite more as he turned to perch you atop the counter. His hips rolled into you, languid but forceful whilst he explored the wet cavern of your mouth. Your tongue rolled over his in an erotic dance that had no end in sight. If not for your necessity to breathe, there would be no parting you and only the shared oxygen in the space created by two friends that finally breached a line that had been long held and now threatened to either tie them together or pull them apart.

You tugged expectantly at his clothes, desperate to strip him to your gaze and finally, he relented. Kiba pulled back long enough to tug off his shirt and tee, discarding them haphazardly. His warm breath fanned your cheek, stuttering when your cool fingers stroked and detailed the definition of his torso.

"Eager little thing," he growled. The smile he sported only served to highlight the ego that was often to focus of your teasing. Yet, this time no humourous jabs came to mind. For once you were glad of his self-confidence and eagerness to move things along.

He divested you of your oversized hoodie, thankful you had taken the time to put on a nice bra beneath it despite the mess you had been in earlier. His groan was heaven to your ears and when he dove to kiss you through the sheer material of your bralette you thought you had died right there and then.

Saliva dampened the already thin fabric, those dangerous wolfish teeth nipping at your pebbled buds. With your head tossed back, he used that wicked mouth of his on your breasts and you were unprepared for the piercing rip that flooded the hushed space. Kiba had torn clean through the garment, the halves falling down your arms to lay destroyed on the floor.

"Kiba!" you half yelled, half squeaked as he took that exact moment to suckle your nipple between his plush lips. Your belly quivered, the pulling sensation more intoxicating than the most potent alcohol and the feeling echoed far more intensely between your trembling thighs. Your fingers carded through his lush hair, nails scraping against his scalp and smiling indulgently at the rumble deep in his throat.

"I'll buy you more, promise baby. Lay back, need to get you naked," he said sounding entirely as drunk as you felt.

For once you were eager to follow his instruction, a novelty for Kiba who merely watched with a knowing look that promised he would deliver of your wildest fantasies if you’d just fucking listen to him, at long last. His eager fingers hooked into the waistband of your leggings and were quickly dragged down your supple legs. Slowly, he eased his calloused fingers back up your bare legs, stopping to toy with the back of your knees and listen to the subtle gasp caught tight in your throat.

Funny how you had thought he would be rough and impatient, the deed almost over with and the finish line hurtled towards at inhumane speed when here he was taking his sweet time. It was maddening when all you wanted was for him to feel the searing heat that was radiating from between your thighs, to dip his fingertips against your panties and know how drenched they already were from the mere prospect of being with him.

As if sensing your thought process, Kiba finally parted thighs whilst you rested backwards on your elbows. A low appreciative hum caught your ear and you shifted your focus to the tight grip he had on his bottom lip, teeth sinking deep and the wide flare of his nostrils like he was scenting you as an animal would do. He planted your feet and pushed your knees to the sides until you were splayed out like a cat in heat. It was vulnerable and so exhilarating you couldn't help but wriggle.

His eyes were glazed over when he, at last, moved to touch your panties, zeroing in on the obvious damp patch and letting his head roll along his neck for a second as a visible shiver passed up the length of his spine. You’d swear he appeared like those cartoon characters that have zapped with electricity, near every hair on his body rippling from the sensation.

"Have to taste you, sweetheart. My pretty fuckin’ girl."

A chaste kiss fell to your lips before he began a slow tortured path down your body, stopping here and there as he learned the spots that made you tremble and shake, noting carefully when you would whine and try to cling to him. Smug smiles and smears of his saliva were painted upon your heated skin, and he let loose a triumphant bark of laughter when you whimpered your impatience.

"Please," you mewled, a hand pressing atop his head to hurry his descent. Forward was not something you were familiar with, shyness always overtaking your urge to express your wants, but with Kiba, you knew there was no need for any such concerns.

"Tell me exactly what you want and I’ll deliver."

You could cry at the bubble of pressure that was desperate for release, sitting just below the surface, if he would just touch you.

"Wan’ you to fuck me with your mouth, need it so bad Kiba! Please–"

The last syllable had barely left your mouth before he was diving for your centre, underwear pressed aside as he nudged your clit with his nose and inhaled deeply. One roughened pad explored your slick folds, collecting the nectar and pressing it into his mouth.

His sigh was purely reverential and he settled down to devour you like a starving man sat before his first meal in weeks. It was all too much, the immediate stimulation intense enough to have your toes curling where they now rested down his broad back.

Kiba laid languid swipes of his molten tongue along your slit, alternating between flickering motions against your engorged pearl and slow circular patterns around your sopping hole. The walls of your cunt fluttered, desperate to be filled and clench around something–anything–and when his finger slipped easily inside you bucked wildly.

“Shh, keep still. Lemme hear your pretty voice but gotta hold still, yeah?” He encouraged, mouth only moving far enough way for you to hear his heated request.

It took mere minutes for you to come apart on his mouth, his digit sucked deep as he stroked your slick, spongy walls and suckled at your clit to almost pain. Your legs were limp from the unrelenting waves of euphoria that raced throughout your body and if not for the grounding palm caressing your thigh then you might have passed out there and then when white sparks shot straight through your vision.

Kiba didn’t spill a single drop of your nectar, the wet insistent muscle rolling into your cunt over and over to simply dig more of the delicious juices from your quivering body before he stood with the lower half of his face glistening in your essence. It felt… empowering. The intense lust that blazed in his eyes, a lust that was for you and no one else. Fuck. You loved him. Had for a long time. Why had you taken so long to see it for what it really was?

It wasn’t the time to get stuck in your head like this, there would be moments for these thoughts and what lay beyond but right now, you weren’t entirely satisfied and you wouldn’t be until you had milked the man looming over you for every drop he could deliver.

With renewed vigour and determination, you propped yourself on your elbows and then lunged forward towards the buckle of his belt. You’d never worked so deftly as you worked to unbuckle him, moaning at the loud metal clattering loose. Buttons worked free and zipper pulled down, the waistband of his underwear came into sight and your fingers curled around that final barrier and released with him an audible gasp mingled with his sigh of relief.

You had known he was going to be well endowed, could feel it from the press of his body only earlier, but it was still a shock to see him in all his glory, and what a glory it was. His length was impressive, but it was his girth that was the true beauty–if you could even call such a monster a beauty. Kiba's cock could barely support its own weight, the angry length tipped to a deep purple with precum leaking from the slit under your scrutiny.

It looked enormous in your petite hand, managing to encircle the shaft but only just did your fingertips meet. You stroked his velvety soft skin, paying attention to the stark veins that stood to attention and how Kiba reacted when you traced over the most prominent with a salacious smile. You scooted towards the edge of the counter, eyes locked with him with every deliberate move you made.

The head kissed against your glistening folds and you teased both of you by running the blunt tip along your slit until it bumped against your clitoral hood. His fingers were gripping the edge of the counter so tightly you feared he would crumble the marble under his strong hands if he wasn't careful. You notched him at your slowly pulsing entrance, and on a breathy keening noise, you pleaded. 

"Fuck me Kiba."

You knew that he had snapped when an animalistic noise roared from his throat and the death grip moved from the counter to your hips as he pushed into your cunt. Kiba eagerly watched your walls suck him in, utterly drunk on the silken feel of you in much the same way that you were drunk on him. Every drag of his shaft rubbed delicious friction into your most intimate areas with a precision he shouldn’t yet possess. He was made for you and you were made to take him.

There would be a time for slower moments and tender loving making, for you were sure that Kiba was not going to escape from you, not now. He was yours, and you his. This alone had you urging him on, driving that feral side of him to act and do it hard and fast with nips at his lips and nails clawing down his back. 

His hips pistoned like a well-oiled machine, and sweat clung to his forehead as he set a pace that saw him pounding into your pussy. A relentless rhythm that matched the pound of your heart, clammy skin on skin and kisses that acted better than any drugs ever could.

"This what you wan’? Hungry for my cock, huh?"

His words were staccato with every thrust that he delivered, your body jerking with the wild and powerful movements. Your head fell back against the counter as moan after decadent moan left your throat. Kiba's tight grip moved to your waist and he began to pull you onto his length, your back sliding against the marble top making your tits bounce and your ass slap against his pelvis. Every drag of his shaft against your walls made you keen for him, full to capacity but craving more nevertheless. He was using you like his own personal fucktoy and you were creaming around him at that knowledge, the lewd squelches of your bodies joined in this way growing louder and louder.

"Tell me. Need to hear you say it, kitten."

"Oh… fu-fuck! Need your dick, feel so good–ah!" You screamed when Kiba leaned over you and altered the angle of how he was driving into you. His mouth sucked possessive marks onto the sides of your breasts as you used the last of your hastily retreating sanity to again fist his hair and force him even closer to you.

"Tell me I'm better than those other motherfuckers. No one can fuck you like this, nobody else is worthy of this beautiful pussy," he growled, breaking from your hold to allow him to press his thumb against your clit and making you jerk at the sudden unsuspecting touch.

"Kiba–best. Gonna, oh god–m’so close. No one but you."

Your brain was a puddle, the ecstasy too much for full coherent thoughts as you felt the gush hit against his groin. You soaked him in your juices, the wet noises crescendoing whilst stars winked into your vision.

"Such a good fuckin’ girl, oh shit. What a beautiful mess you've made on me," he cooed in praise, slowing his pace but never stopping. He had to be close; your walls desperately trying to milk him, to force his release in kind.

Slowly, you returned to the earth, oversensitive from each measured stroke that he delivered until he pulled from you and wiped the sweat from his brow. He fisted his shaft as you watched, tears springing to your eyes at being denied his release.

"Wanna come down your throat, think you can manage?" he asked, his eyes burning into yours as he pumped himself.

Your thighs were shaky, the skin slick with the spill of your arousal but you managed not to fall to the floor. Kiba steadied you with his free hand, groaning in his throat as you knelt before him. His head fell back when you parted your lips and accepted him into your wet mouth.

The taste of his essence mingled with your own, sweet and bitter but definitely not unpleasant. You had never done this before and it felt so wicked as you watched Kiba come apart above you. He could barely maintain his eye contact with you, heat surging to his cheeks and his hands cradling your head in gentle reverence.

His hips jerked, your fingers sinking into his ass that flexed beneath your touch as he kissed against your throat. The muscles constricted and he faltered. "Oh fuck, so close sweetheart."

Your teeth unsheathed carefully, tongue running the length of the litany of veins that ran his shaft and teeth grazing his sensitive flesh until his fingers seized and you felt the hot spurts of his release. It poured down your throat until you pulled back, the rest pooling on your pink tongue.

Kiba panted and whined, losing himself in the moment and the feel of your scorching mouth, chest heaving with each laboured inhale. You showed him the milky seed that coated your tongue, watching his eyes roll to the back of his skull the second after you swallowed audibly and opened up to show your now empty mouth.

The seconds ticked by and neither of you moved as your breathing slowly returned to normal. How gorgeous he looked to you, spent and blushing. The massive frame of his body–Kiba’s body–completely undone by your actions and your body.

"That's one way to get over Hidan," he groused, trying to turn from you.

You were not going to allow him to step away from this, two hearts were on the line and you refused to see him in pain. You stood abruptly, possibly a mistake given how your thighs quaked but not giving a shit at the moment. You pulled him back to you, arms resting over his wide shoulders and placing a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth. Pouring every bit of love and desire into your expression, you fixed him with a sincere smile and watched his eyes widen and soften, the creases smoothing out to reveal his true self, the one you were intimately familiar with.

"Who?"

[castlebyersafterdark]

ok so this is a question that i wish was discussed more in other spicy spaces without getting either too careful or too obviously an expression of people's unrealistic fantasies. what do you think attracts will to mike, both in terms of emotional and physical attraction?

there's lots of discussion about mike's attraction to will because that's thought to be what we need more of in the show, and people are happy to talk about will's physical attributes like his ass. but when will's attraction to mike is discussed, its always in the context of emotion and love and friendship becoming romantic, but never physical. there's not much in the way of will's fantasies or him being allowed to have a purely physical aspect to his love for mike, which is so sad to me because it reflects the thematic castration of will in the show (@therainscene did a great post on this about the lack of posters and sexuality in will's room etc).

i personally think the dnd alter egos give lots of hints about why will is emotionally attracted to mike, but at the same time, physicality and presence is a huge part of medieval/roleplay, so Will MUST have thought about mike's physicality in his fantasies, surely?

i wonder if there's not a lot of spec on this because people find there to be a dissonance between finn/mike's body and what they think mike's character represents in the show to a negative degree? whereas for will, even though his muscle development isnt **exactly** in line with will's character, society considers muscles to be a good thing so the change doesnt upset anyone. (not to say muscular men can't be sensitive, but the duffers probably would have chosen him to remain more delicate if they had a choice)

i personally think that mike's awkwardness due to finn's physicality has always been present and a big part of what makes the show so endearing, esp in s1. its only because there's an expectation for blockbuster scale epic fight scenes now, big music, big action, that people start to think mike needs to be this Baddie. I like the idea of him having a moment, but i dont need him to be wielding a sword like a badass and Looking Cool 24/7. Mike isnt traditionally cool, i need him to stay that a nerd lol.

maybe this is also why i think there would be something so powerful about a byler sex scene, because the more awkward/realistic/nerdier the better? it doesnt need to be traditionally sexy, but it WOULD be sexy just because of the fact that it would be mike and will and them getting together is intrinsically sexy.

i hope this makes sense lol sorry for the essay

EXCELLENT TOPIC! So many good points. You're absolutely correct about all of this - there is a definite line it seems, with more focus given to how Mike views Will, versus what made Will develop feelings and attraction to Mike, beyond the "we're best friends and I want you in my life forever"-ness of it all. I love talking about what Mike loves about Will, but let's hype up the other side of this coin.

This may sound so odd, but I genuinely think sometimes it's forgotten in general spaces that Will is gay? And what that actually means. Like he's a gay guy. Who is attracted to men and ultimately wants to be intimate with men (even if in present time, this want is being internally and externally denied). And Mike is a man (big juicy can of worms re: the gnc debate, save that for another essay, but I think my stance is visible between the lines here) and Will wants him. We all saw how Will looked at Mike in the desert. Dirty, white t-shirt probably transparent in spots from sweat, heaving breath as he did all the work shoveling for his boy bestie. Will doesn't have to lift a finger. Will gets to pretend to move several grains of sand around. Will looks at Mike with lust in his eyes. That is the boy he's grown up with and had been crushing on as a kid, that's the guy he's fallen in love with. And Mike has grown up. Still awkward, but developing into someone that Will not only wants to spend forever with, but wants intimately.

I like to imagine them as kids, maybe around the age they are introduced to us as in s1. What are they, 12? It's been awhile, but I remember being 12. I remember my first crushes, and they happened even earlier. Will has several male friends - each with their own appealing attributes. I think any of the party could be cute to a young, sexually confused nerd. But Will crushes on Mike. His first friend, the face he can imagine perfectly when he closes his eyes, able to draw him from memory because our boy is an artist. Little Will, drawing in sketchbooks from the early years. Why is it so important that he gets the shape of Mike's lips just right? Why are his eyes the best eyes he's ever drawn? Why does he spend so long perfecting a technique to capture the dark swoops of his best friend's hair? He's caught himself staring too long at Mike's mouth on occasion. He's caught himself suppressing a shudder when Mike's arm is so casually thrown around him, holding him close. He smells like a boy. He likes that a lot more than whatever girls douse themselves with. Uh oh.

Mike is not conventionally attractive. Neither is FW, either. Not to say he's bad looking (I find him very very attractive), but honestly - he's different. He's not like the cookie cutter Ken, the action figure, the Hollywood poster boy. He's got unique features and is awkward in his own skin. I don't think girls (and closeted guys) at Mike's school are falling at his feet. "I'm not exactly Mr. Popular." But they still look. As opposed to Jason, the All-American Juxtaposition. Jason - classically and cliche-handsome, the prototype boyfriend for the prototype cheerleader. If Will was at Hawkins High that year, I'm sure he'd give Jason a passing glance. He's an attractive man. Will's heart can belong to one and his eyes can appreciate attractive people in his vicinity. But Mike. Mike. Slightly taller, his protective personality bleeding into his physicality. I can see Will being into the protectiveness as a physical manifestation. Mike can maneuver him, can probably hug him tight and lift him up. He's not some action hero, or a muscled heartthrob but he's not as pathetic as fanon so pretends. I don't think he's gonna be an over powered badass by any means, but he can wield a sword and try and even if he's not that great at it. He's not hesitant. And clearly Will knows this. He painted it. He's into it. Mike, able to lead them into battle. Mike, awkward but endearing and strong. Mike with his big hands and lean muscles and that mouth that Will's eyes are drawn to like magnets and he hopes he's not as guiltily obvious as he feels when he watches his best friend orbit around him.

He may hide his attraction to men, with no posters of them on his walls. Diverting his eyes when he notices an attractive man in public. But he has music and cinema. Albums and magazines and movies. Mike looks more like the men in his favorite bands than the men playing professional sports. Bowie is so much cooler. He's odd, he's different. He's hot. Will likes the unconventional and he likes the familiar things that make him feel good and safe. Mike makes him feel safe. Oh, how he wants Mike to make him feel good.

Will had a crush on his best friend, when he first started being plagued with the realization that boys were cute. Will fell in love and when he re-met his best friend in the airport - his friend has grown up hot. He's pissed off and heartbroken that they haven't reached out to each other more, but he can't keep his eyes off Mike. He's dreamed about him and sketched him from memory so many times before Spring Break - but in the flesh? Everything and more. Will wants him.

[vtoriacore]

✧ never the first

note: wow i can't go long without writing for vil at all. i wanted him to suffer today, can't say i'm sorry when i'm still feeling petty BECAUSE HIS BDAY CARDS DIDNT COME THIS YEAR. anyways sorry vil, love you really but also suffer <3

synopsis: he viewed you as more than a friend, and it was tearing him apart from the inside; couldn't you see him as more?

reblogs much appreciated, mwah 💞💓

Envy, not an emotion Vil was used to feeling in regards to someone else. Sure, he could begrudgingly admit that he did feel searing jealously whenever Neige was up on stage start to finish, playing roles fitting for someone of his 'cute' and 'innocent' stature (industry's words, not his own) but envy? No, never envy. He was never envious of his one-sided rival, never had been and never will be. Which is something he'd thought up until now, thinking over how you talk to Neige so casually and without a care in the world as if you'd known him your entire life. Why did Neige get to have your attention like this, spoken to like a treasure, when you were so formal with Vil, as if he were just another commodity?

Always a 'good morning, Vil.' but never a 'morning hun!', always a 'goodbye' but never a 'see ya later dear!', always a 'how are you today?' but never an 'aww what's got you so down sweetie?' and always-

"Roi du Poison!" why couldn't you dote on him like that?

"There has been a little emergency back at the dorm, you see-" why didn't you gift him any of your endearing nicknames?

"We aren't sure if the potion is dangerous yet and the freshman-" why couldn't you see the longing in his eyes every time you were together?

"Roi du Poison! By the Seven, are you listening? Undoubtedly so, your thoughts are always deeply beautiful and assuredly just as important but this is no time to be occupied in this manner!"

Ah, how vexing. Or perhaps he should feel grateful at the fact Rook, the blabbering (not that he minded) man he is, came over to distract him from his thoughts? Not that it was working very well, because even now as he's being whisked away in order to deal with the fool who potentially contaminated the Pomefiore labs with a dangerous substance, all he can think about is that sweet smile you'd direct at Neige and how it contrasts with the formal one you always direct at him. Did he really intimidate you this much? Or did you not wish to pursue anything more than aquaintanceship with him? Even thinking the word stung, and he desperately wished it didn't.

"How did this mess happen?" he asked as he observed the unsightly scene, but didn't process it. Really, how could this mess have happened? How could he have gotten so deeply involved with you when you viewed him as nothing but a friend, or maybe even less?

"I- I'm sorry housewarden! It was an honest mistake- I added too much rosemary oil and-" and he never did think that you'd be anything more than a friend initially. So why? Why did he allow his heart to tear open at its seams when you aren't the one there to mend it, when you aren't the one to stitch the fragile felt, when you aren't the one to weave every thread of his love together into something you could both admire? Why couldn't you be the one?

"Take utmost precaution in the future. Come. I'll instruct you on how to properly dispose of the potion's residue with magic. Rook, please ensure no passing students are in the vicinity," he didn't allow his voice to tremble, despite the thrashing storm of emotions passing through him in waves, eroding at his steel, or perhaps iron with how fast it was crumbling, will. But he knew this endeavour was fruitless. It isn't like he could focus on anything but the raging thoughts, sharper than ever, ringing in his head; was he not enough for you? Did he lack something fundamental you were looking for? Could you not find anything within him to build something beautiful up?

"Thank you housewarden! I'll make sure to be more careful in the future," he didn't respond, not when his underclassman waited for a response and not when Rook came back to assess the situation, not when he himself couldn't even assess what it is he was missing that made you want Neige and not him.

[thekatebridgerton]

Rewatching s3 I realized that I never actually gave my opinion on the full season to you guys.

Mostly because it was good, every single Penelope and Colin scene was well written, well paced and crafted to bring their relationship full circle. In fact if I could edit s3 into a movie I'd cut everything off and leave the 1 or 2 hours of accumlated screentime that Penelope and Colin had together. Nicola and Luke really brought their A game.

Lord Debling wasa solid character, I really liked him, at first I thought he was going to be like Theo and have no purpose other than make Colin jealous, but he stood his ground as a well developed character ( for the few episodes he was in), I'm sad that he seemingly disappeared after Penelope and Colin got together and I genuinely wish he'd have found a good bride who would write to him and take care of his estate in his absence.

Francesca's storyline with John was also very complimentary, I once said I wanted to see how Eloise related to Francesca who didn't mind being a debutante just like Daphne and I am glad they gave Francesca her own unique charm as well as her own brand of awkwardness, not as obsessed with being perfect as Daphne but also not as antagonizing as Eloise. John was just the right ammount of kind and special that you can see how much Francesca really loves him. ( I'm choosing to ignore what I know of the books and look at Francesca's meeting with Michaela as just another awkward moment Francesca suffers in front of an extrovert .. mostly because I think its weird that neither John or his staff told Michaela he was married and to a Bridgerton sparkler at that, the whole ' and you are' felt really out of place and made me scratch my head)

The featheringtons actually felt more organically integrated into the plotline because this season they are in the position of being the female lead relatives so their shenanigans actually feel more plot relevant. And add levity to what would otherwise be a very dramatic series of episodes

Now on to the things I made fun of: every scene Benedict had with Lady Tilly, is very skippable, and honestly not plot relevant, after 2 seasons of watching him hoe around, a third one is just overkill. Also lady Tilly catching feelings and Benedict activating ' I want my freedom' mode is so hilarious. Gosh I wish him a very sexually frustrated and abstinent season 4.

Eloise friendship with Cressida also felt like filler. I know I've been saying Eloise needs friends since forever but I meant Kate, or Edwina or Sophie. Cressida Cowper was..a choice. And one that ultimately added very little to Eloise character development. But hey at least Eloise tried to make friends this season, I call that a step in the right direction.

Overall it was a good season, I'm sorry if I complain a lot about the parts I didn't like, but for the most part, it was good watchable content with a few snags that can be ironed out in fanfiction. The dresses were amazing and I hope their wardrobe department gets a raise for the hard work they put in these 2 years of sewing and pattern making. Hopefully one day I'll get a documentary about the Bridgerton wardrobe department process of selecting fabrics and making dresses. It would be lovely to see.

So far that's been my very belated season 3 review. And that's the tea

[terriblyvexed]

hey hey! its one of your readers on ao3 i realized i can ask questions on tumblr so i am trying it out. this may be a controversial question as opinions vary greatly from person to person lool but i am curious being a fellow fan of aot and a fan of your work, so, what did you think about the ending to aot? 👀

(personally i subscribe to a specific fan theory (NOT ANR GOD FORBID i rebuke it!) to keep hope alive in my heart that theres more aot to come cause i did not like the ending much so basically, theres no judgement from me srsly im delulu myself as it stands 😭💯)

anyway thats all thank you for writing left behind and answering my question (potentially)! hope you have a great rest of your day :D

Yeah I know your nickname haha and you can ask or yap about anything!

Ahh yes the ending opinions where swords are drawn two minutes into the debate lol and it’s annoying that people can’t state their thoughts as freely because of the toxicity from every side. This is going to be long I’m sorry😭

I personally didn’t like the ending that much either. I don’t think it’s as bad as people make it out to be, I mean we’ve all seen GoT, but I know a story like AoT could’ve done a little bit better than that, so. It’s not that I wanted Eren to live happily ever after, because his death made the most sense even before I knew about it, but it’s the execution of the episode in general that makes it feel rushed for me.

Mikasa killing him is a beautifully tragic twist, I started bawling my eyes out right there, but I wish the cabin scene was done differently. For me it didn’t feel as raw and honest as the Eren-Armin convo, which I’m not the biggest fan of either, but I’ve always wanted more communication for Eremika so maybe that makes me bitter. Let me see them talk about the table scene and let me see Eren apologise to her. It’s their last moment together, I wanted to see more emotion and honesty rather than an already established relationship that they did off camera. I get what it’s trying to show, and the scene itself is not bad, but I was just a big EM shipper at the time and hoped for more. (I felt the same back when he told her he would wrap that scarf around her forever and always. It hit me just in the right place I remember wanting them to talk about it afterwards but nothing was said.) Same with the memories he gave back to his friends, I’d have liked to see them talk. Him opening his eyes one last time to see her was beautiful no comment there.

Other than that I also LOVED when Levi saluted his friends and comrades! Liked his internal monologue where he said he didn’t regret not bringing Erwin back (Which also made me wish we could’ve seen Armin coming up with impressive strategies and ideas like he used to.)

I liked how Hange was sent off, but I missed them in the final fight.

I really liked the rumbling montage with Guilty Hero playing and Armin’s VA pouring her heart out + that cry at the end when Armin sees Eren. The Levi&Mikasa team-up/final stand was amazing. Those were all done nicely, but that’s pretty much it for me.

For some reason I wasn’t vibing with Annie. I mean she was never my fav but her in season one and in her ova was so much more interesting to me.

I was left underwhelmed by the final fight considering we’ve had great battles like RTS and Liberio previously, it does not compare in my opinion. I understand that Eren won’t kill his friends and I definitely agree with that, but something else could’ve been done with Ymir to make the stakes higher. The ancient titans didn’t feel threatening when you just knew no one was going to die, especially when Falco (first time flying) could dodge all of their arrows.

When everyone there turned into titans, like Jean and Connie, I would’ve preferred if they stayed titans and died when the curse ended. Bringing them back a few minutes later is just meh for me, and makes the emotions I’ve felt a one time thing only because that Jean&Connie dialogue didn’t hit the same afterwards. Not to mention that Connie’s mom was brought back only for us to not see their reunion lol.

Ymir’s storyline was interesting when Eren saw her memories, but after that she lost me a bit. I also don’t like that that *chef’s kiss* scene with Eren telling her she’s just a person didn’t free her at all, that killing Zeke stopped the Rumbling, that Levi was nerfed for the sake of the fight. If all these decisions were done in a slightly expanded time period, I don’t think I would’ve minded much. Especially the final episode itself was, again, rushed in my opinion.

Also, this isn’t just the finale but Historia being sidelined like that is a no-no for me. Not a fan of how the Hizuru-Mikasa plot line didn’t go anywhere either. That may just be nitpicking, but again I do believe season 4 should’ve been longer, maybe with a season 5 as well.

With all that being said, these are just my personal opinions/feelings and despite all, thematically the author did a good job wrapping everything up. Ending a story like AoT couldn’t have been easy at all. Watching it was an experience I don’t think I’ll ever forget or get over and I’m forever going to miss it. (I’m reading the manga now and the uprising arc has me hooked since it’s a bit different from the anime, and dare I say better?)

The ending didn’t ruin it for me or anything, just sad that I won’t get to see the things I wanted to see because naturally everyone has their own expectations, but what are fanfictions for?

What’s the fan theory that you believe? Other than that ANR I’ve heard about the mist and ouroboros but I’ve never read them in detail.

Thank you for reading Left Behind! I’d also like to state that my criticism of the AoT ending does not mean I’ll write one better lol. I like my ending for my story but I’ve already made peace with the fact that some readers might have problems with it. Which is fine as well because I love a good finale debate.

You have a great day/night as well!💓

[hexxbug]

ACT 2 MFSSS

(SPOILERS and caps overuse once again)(it's also very out of order, my brain literally cannot comprehend anything rn)

───── · ═━ ┈ ━═ · ─────

LITERALLY WHAT THE FUCKKKK???????! ASHSBVSCSVDBDHDHHD

Maddie and Cait????? Horror. Trauma. ABSOLUTE JUMPSCARE.

(I don't hate it though actually)(which I'm very surprised about but CaitVi mlll)

Isha being amazing 2.0 (PRETENDING TO BE JINX AWWWW)(just all their scenes together at the start<33)

Jinx being so cautious of everyone's touch🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

Just Sevika being cool. Literally all the time.

MEL SHE'S LITERALLY INSANE!!! GIRLBOSS!! QUEEN!!! WTF IM SO GAY!!!!! I CANNOT WAIT FOR THE END OF HER ARC!!!

VANDER!!!!!! HAPPY FAMILY!!(I literally said out loud when they hugged at the end of ep5 "they get 3 seconds of happiness, starting now" I WISH I WASNT RIGHT GODDAMN)

FELICIA!!!!!! THE QUEEN HERSELF!!!

THE GIRLS ARE HEALING THOUGH!!!!!! ALL OF THEM! ISHA IS SO CENTRAL TO IT!! SHES JUST SUCH A FUCKING PARALLEL❤️

CAITVI WE ARE SOOOO BACK MFSSSS

JAYCE MY MAN WHAT THE FUCK. just. RAHHHHHHHH. no

ISHAAAAAA HHHHHHHHHHHHHHH GIRL NOOOOO!!!!!! WHY WAS I RIGHT²???!!??? LITERALLY BAWLING!!!!!!she won't be okay BUT SHE BETTER BE FUCKING OKAY!!!!

THE FLASHBACKS OF HER AND JINX... THE SONG...CAN YOU HEAR MY HEART BREAKING???

I HAVE GONE THROUGH ALL THE STAGES OF GRIEF x 2 AND IM NOW STUCK IN DENIAL

Her parallel to Powder in series one in LITERALLY ALL THE WAYS!!!! MY HEARTTT

Honourable mentions:

Jinx trying to flip Sevika off but she can't😭😭(I giggled)(I'm a little sorry but not really)

Revek and the woman he's trying to save

VI STOP BEATING THE SHIT OUT OF THE SAME GUY LMAOOO

Vi's "his psychopath daughter" and Jinx's "which one" COMEBACK QUEEN!!!!! SHE'S STILL GOT IT!!! It's kinda corny but idcc

Vander's immediate reaction to Felicia being pregnant is swapping the drink!!! He literally had that on hand though it was so fast!!❤️❤️AND ITS THE SAME GLASS JINX USES IN S1!!!

The girls' mum being the one who cuts their hair🥹

(to quote a post I saw "at least we finally found out who Zaun's fuckass barber was"😭😭😭)

"i have one condition""looks like you got a lot more than that" you sassy mf ily

Viktor's immediate comeback being to deadname her😭😭

The cog Viktor was kept since the start idk just cool (I too am a sentimental mf)

The reiteration that Jinx is just as much Vander's daughter as Vi is absvdvgs

VIKTOR AND CAIT LOOK SO SIMILAR, THE HAIR, THE CAPES, I SEE THE RESEMBLANCE BUT IDK THE MEANING YET

Felt like some of the justifications/reunions were a bit odd and lackluster but honestly I love seeing everyone back together so I'm not complaining lmaoo

THE MUSIC!! ONCE AGAIN ABSOLUTELY AMAZING AND ITS GOING STRAIGHT ON MY PLAYLIST!

[aurora-313]

Hi there.

I do wish to share a hot about certain events and characters in Bleach.

I don't think Rukia should have been the captain of squad 13. Here me out, she is qualified to be a captain and has bankai. But not for the 13th squad. We didn't see her interact with squad 13 as much as she did with squad six (Renji and Byakuya). The only significant interaction she had was with Kaien who later [redacted] in her hands.

We didn't get to see the relationship between her and Ukitake as captain and lieutenant duo and...generally really. Meanwhile we have seen great relationships with other squads like Shunsui and Nanao, Byakuya and Renji heck even Komamura and Iba had their moments together but not Rukia and Ukitake.

It upsets me as an Ukitake fan that she gets to fully admire the same people who tired to kill her in their first introduction instead of her Captain who not only said fuck you to C46 but also went against the Head captain (whom he has generated respect) to save her life🥲

Plus they didn't even get a flashback moment in tybw anime before Ukitake performed the ritual. One of the reasons I detest tybw. And she even said his line from the manga'we all feel the same way as the court guard' like come on! It would have been an emotional moment if Kubo expanded on their relationship more😤 I prefer to just ignore tybw as a whole sometimes

I apologise for the rant but I don't hate her. I hate the way Kubo handled her character as well as others sometimes. What do you think?

Well. I despise TYBW, period, so you're already starting off on a good foot with me.

I categorically reject its existence in favour of FB functioning as an epilogue and an imagined ending scene where the next year they visit Masaki's grave, Isshin strikes up a conversation with Ichigo, asking "Hey, did I ever tell you how I met your mother?"

I'll just say for the record, you don't need to redact any words, mate. We're all adults here. If one word sends someone into a foaming fit they mash keys incoherently, they have bigger problems than a random stranger on the internet.

Anyways. That aside: I will say I agree with you. To a point. Rukia's arc was about overcoming her own isolation, either self imposed or imposed upon her. EG. her talents with reiatsu in Rukongai isolating her from her adopted siblings, her adoption into nobility, her perceived role as a 'Captain's pet', her guilt from killing Kaien (when you can tell he regained control and threw himself on the blade rather than hurt her, plus her orders to do it.)

Rukia achieving Captaincy is meant to be the thematic conclusion of that arc. Overcoming her isolation to become the leader her division need her to be in the wake of tragedy. We do see it a bit in the story.

Thanks to Ichigo, Rukia was able to form bonds with the humans in Karakura; she was able to rediscover her will to live; she was able to rebuild a bond with Renji (though I'm confused how the fuck her first adopted brother became her husband, or how she forgave him for literally trying to kill her the first time they met in 40 years. Maybe Rukia's got some twisted kinks) and form a proper siblinghood with Byakuya; Rukia was able to look in the face of the man she believed she wronged most (Aaroniero!Kaien) and tell him 'I'm sorry but until I've achieved my goals, I can't give you my life'; she was able to muster the courage to go against Soul Society's laws and spearhead the effort to give Ichigo his powers back, ultimately roping in everyone up to the Yamamoto to help.

As inheritor of Kaien and Ukitake's legacies, captaincy was absolutely in Rukia's future. But to my mind, it should've been an achievement she gained well beyond what the source manga covers. If Bleach was ever cursed with a 'next gen' series, Rukia should be in that line-up. (which, I will concede, she is. But I despise everything to do with TYBW and the epilogue, so I categorically reject its existence.)

I will also agree we absolutely missed out on anything that showed why Ukitake chose Rukia as his new Lieutenant outside nepotism and being Kaien's former student. We saw nothing of their working relationship. We didn't see Rukia coping with the extra duties of being basically pseudo-Captain all the times Ukitake gets laid out due to illness. We don't get to see her working with Kiyone and Sentaro as their superior or any connections with the 13th before she's elected Captain. We're in complete agreement there.

Thematically, its meant to be a triumphant end for her character journey. In practice, screams of nepotism and a desperate need to back fill ranks because everyone is else qualified is dead, exiled or a traitor.

I'll be completely honest with you: The kamikake is bullshit. The whole plot point is bullshit. It positively screams of Kubo realising Ukitake is the golden bullet in the war against the Quincy, given Sogyo no Kotowari's power is literally catching and sending objects back at a foe, empowered several times over (ridiculously overpowered against foes that use exclusively energy projectiles, no?). The whole plot beat is Kubo deciding, "I need this character to die because he's far too broken for this war. How can I justify it? Oh, lets make him a part-Soul King."

TYBW's adaptation is middling to mediocre. I gave the first cour a watch. Not only was I mind-numbingly bored, the amount of character content cut that gave us vital context to character reactions.

My first warning sign was the first episode: 2/3rds of the episode wasted on two plebs we'll never see again. Who really gives a damn about these two idiots? Really. Sure, the manga set them up to be Ichigo's new apprentices. Which would've been a fantastic dynamic. Ichigo's the veteran teaching the impressionable young rookies how to fight and survive (honestly a far better story than what we got) but Kubo quickly punted that idea to the curb and shat all over it, in favour of a war with absolutely no stakes nor reason to care, really.

The death knell for me was the second episode: Ichigo going on patrol after hearing about Sasakibe's funeral.

In the manga, Ishida and Ichigo have a conversation about it where they agree the only reason they were allowed to overhear that phone call - or rather, the only reason the random blebs of the week received that phone call - is because Soul Society was going to tap Ichigo for help. Ichigo went on patrol to calm his nerves because the anxiety of waiting was eating him alive.

Additionally, we had a scene with the Lieutenants discussing the disappearing souls in Rukongai, then promptly freaking out because they thought their comrades had turned traitor (again) and turned their blades on Rukongai residences.

Instead the anime would have us believe Ichigo sad over a guy he'd never officially met died. A guy whose only interaction was Ichigo shattering his entire ribcage to protect Rukia and Renji's escape from Sokyoku hill. And the Lieutenants' investigations/findings are cut entirely.

That told me everything I needed to know about how this adaptation was going to go; relentlessly hacking away anything worth paying attention to, replacing it with meaningless fights, jingling keys, more filler fights, shoehorned ""shipping"" (its not even that, let's be real), infusing boring characters with artificial relevance and pushing a worse narrative than anything the manga provided.

Don't even get me started on the bullshit they've done to the Soul King.

I didn't know how TYBW could get any worse or any more illogical, but congrats Kubo, you've managed to crawl under my expectations.

To sum up: I agree with you to a point. Rukia and Ukitake absolutely should've gotten more scenes together (maybe if Kubo stopped adding characters and built up the ones he already had...), Rukia's Captaincy should've been a future/next gen plot point, and uh, yes. I hate how every character is handled in TYBW.

(You're fine ranting. I've given you a rant in kind so I think we're even. lol)

[hooked-on-elvis]

What is your favorite part of the '68 Special?

Pictures: Singer Presents  ... Elvis, commonly referred to as the '68 Comeback Special. 1968.

For me, undoubtedly I say my favorite part of the '68 Special is the sit-down concerts, specially the reunion between Elvis and the remaining members of Elvis' former band, the Blue Moon Boys, Scotty Moore and DJ Fontana.

I wonder if the fans, not the specialized critic such as musicians and general people in the business but specially the fans, back then, while watching this TV special for the first time, understood or merely felt the significance of this moment. I wonder if they were surprised in seeing Elvis not only back onstage after a while but back onstage with Scotty and DJ Fontana by his side. Man, that was special! To me, the most special portion of the '68 Comeback. ♥

Bill Black, bassist, unfortunately passed away in 1965, while Elvis was still full time engaged with his Hollywood career. Fans only wish Bill could have been there with Scotty and DJ. He had that irreverent performance that fascinates me, surely he would've been a great asset to the show. I only feel sorry Elvis, neither Scotty or DJ, ever mentioned Bill on the '68 Special, but its understandable the reason why. It wasn't about the Blue Moon Boys more than it was about Elvis returning to the stage. Even so, had Bill made it to this moment, man! That would've been something else. Even more meaningful than it already was.

Scotty Moore: His memories on the '68 Comeback Special and 'behind the scenes': Elvis and The Blue Moon Boys performing in Europe?

Source: Excerpt of the documentary "Elvis: The Birth of Rock n' Roll" (2004)

Scotty reveals Elvis asked him and DJ Fontana if they would agree to go on the road with him again, this time performing overseas, in Europe. Curious enough, to that question, Scotty says Elvis called him and DJ Fontana to another room in his home, so they could talk in private - which was something unusual for him because "usually anything he had to say, he'd say no matter who was around".

For the longest time, performing around the world was something Presley aimed. Ever since he had been stationed in Germany with the US Army during his service time, a period he did paused his career therefore he didn't perform while in Europe between 1958 to 1960, reporters asked him if and when that moment would come when Elvis would go back to Europe but this time for live concerts, to the thrill of his passionate fans overseas who followed him career from afar, many since the 50s. Unfortunately touring outside US (other than few performances in Canada in 1957) never seemed the get the right time.

Once Elvis begin performing live again in 1969, after he was out of the movie contracts, Elvis' manager, Colonel Tom Parker, would always have excuses on the tip of his tongue for why an European tour, or world tour for that matter, would not be a such good idea. When Elvis received some death threats coming his way through letters sent to his crew occasionally, starting from 1969 on, those incident perfectly fit to Colonel Parker's intentions for his gold boy. Parker would use the incidents to manipulate Elvis to believe they couldn't do his security properly out of the US. Colonel would tell Presley how it would be too dangerous for him, besides they could make just as much money performing home as they have been doing so far.

Elvis never had this one dream of performing overseas coming true in his life, as much as another reunion between him and the Blue Moon Boys never came to be after the '68 Comeback Special. Scotty says that private conversation in Elvis' home (in 1968) was the last time he was together with Elvis like that, which makes this moment in history one of a kind.

During the '68 Special (sit-down concert), Scotty submits a special request to Elvis for them to play "Lawdy Miss Clawdy" together.

The song was recorded by them on February 3, 1956, at RCA studios in New York. It was released as B-side to the EP "Elvis Presley", out in September 1956. The cover shows Elvis, Scotty Moore and Bill Black performing together.

Later, the song would be featured on the LP "For Elvis Fans Only" released in 1959. Elvis would frequently include "Lawdy Miss Clawdy" to his main setlists from 1970 to 1975, occasionally performing it in 1976 and 1977.

No wonder Scotty picked this song. Maybe a subtle way of honoring late Bill Black. ♥

About their performance of this tune during the '68 Comeback Special:

As they jam together, Scotty gives a cue and Elvis tears into “Lawdy Miss Clawdy” with a raw assault of mixed emotion. His performance is so intense that it almost—in the best way—scratches the ears. Vocal cords that, so far, have proved their owner’s mastery with smooth singing are pushed to the point of fraying at the edges. As Greil Marcus noticed, when Elvis lurches into the number, what he experiences is a feeling that is both joshing and liberated. At one point, as the musicians jam together, it’s possible to hear Charlie Hodge getting carried away with laughter, as if bobbing in the fray of a heady, almost oceanic moment. In his underrated 2004 pocket volume The Rough Guide to Elvis, Paul Simpson describes “Lawdy Miss Clawdy” as “Elvis’s answer to Jack Kerouac’s On the Road.” Taking on this old staple in the Comeback, what the singer delivers is lusty, passionate, and commanding, yet also desperate, angry, and sad. He conjures with immense powers. — Mark Duffett (Counting Down Elvis - His 100 Finest Songs, 2018)

Again, what is your favorite part of the '68 Special?

[oh-saints]

anything with max please! but please make it happy ending?

taking a little break from footballers, shall we?

you

despite all the success and achievements max verstappen has secured in his bag, there's still one thing he wishes to have but knows he can't.

max verstappen x doctor!reader

note: this is inspired by one of the scene from one of my favourite kdrama; hospital playlist (s1; 2020). i hope i do the drama some justice for its amazing rollercoaster ride (#spoiler) so max can be humbled for a minute. but this time, i happen to write during my family trip so this is not proof-read yet.

when the name of his very bestfriend popped up, max couldn't hold back from smiling.

he'd previously told her that he's coming back tonight and asked if she was free for a catch up session. due to the nature of their jobs, the two friends couldn't see each other as much as they'd love to.

if he had his way, she wouldn't be working as hard as she is now. nothing in this world can make max's life better—and this was saying a lot when he's achieved everything earthly possible—than to have her at every race. win or lose, max knows there's always someone waiting on him to cross the finish line, as long as he's safe and sound.

nobody ever asks that of him. it's always wins, titles. no matter the cost, no matter the consequence of this very dangerous sport.

"hi—"

"can you come over tonight?"

max's heart immediately took a free dive.

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

"so sorry i called you very late into the night,"

she didn't let him express how much he'd missed seeing her. as soon as she opened the door, she strode back inside of her apartment. her hands immediately reached for the white pristine coat hanging on the wall as she passed by.

"i got a call from the hospital but my nanny's not picking up,"

max was still silent. they'd fallen into the habit of her saying the same thing and he'd remembered them all by now. after this, she'd cited her usual justification. "sorry, i forgot telling you about it because there's always someone calling me when i want to do that."

"sorry, i forgot to tell you—"

"i know, i understand," and max truly does. with how little monaco is, he understands she becomes a well-sought surgeon here. he's actually rather proud, if anything. "go save the world."

she looked up at him from behind the kitchen counter, and max swore she looked dashing as ever, with the gentle yellow lighting highlighting her features. she is one of the rare kind, one who never needs an elaborative piece of clothing to enhance her beauty. she is inner beauty personified—at least per max's standard, but supposedly it says a lot because max isn't kidding when he said he'd seen the bests of the world.

"thank you, max. you don't know how grateful i am of you," and that smile right there, radiating gentleness and calmness and pure yet gratitude, is the very reason why he always heeds to her whims. "but my kid's burning right now so can you do things i've listed down here while i'm gone?"

"sure."

there went another of max's resolution, even before he knows what she'd asked of him. he's so puny in her hands that his father once gaslighted him with her as a bait. so different to the cold, ruthless max verstappen everyone labels him to be.

after running through everything on the list together and making sure max understood them once more, for she wouldn't be able to be contacted for at least the next 3 hours, she finally put her arms to the coat hanging on her shoulder proudly. she reached for her bag, and when she was about to pick up the car keys, max halted her hand.

"please use taxi," he said, and she wondered why. "for my sanity sake, knowing you'll make it safe there."

she wanted to argue that there was no guarantee she'd make it safe with a taxi, no different than driving on her own, but she nodded wordlessly. she'd asked max to come down here in short notice, not long after he told her he was in town and only to make him babysit her kid, but he'd come with no question asked. taking taxi was the least she could do for him.

it seemed like the kid knew she left their home, for the cry ensued not long after, like a chick looking for the hen. thankfully it wasn't max's first rodeo, more over when his girlfriend has her kid of her own.

unfortunately.

"hey, hey," he cooed gently, and the little one scratched the teary eyes, crying stopped at the sight of max. he was always the favourite in this household, always coming here with something in his hands the kid doesn't know it exists. toys, actions figures, you name it. "are you okay?"

"maxie?" suddenly he remembered his sister's comment about his father instinct spiking whenever this particular kid was around. he'd even let them call him by his first name, no specific title else needed. so unlike him, when he taught leo and luka to call him by "oom maxie" or uncle maxie in dutch.

"thirsty or hungry, schatje?" max immediately picked up the split version of his best friend, and the feeling of being hugged back affectionately by his best friend's entire world contended the best feeling in the world for him. it was as if the little treasure was trying to get a hold of him entirely with their little arms and hands, like he meant the world for them.

like he is the world to them as much as the kid means the world to him. oh, if only they knew...

the kid passionately shook their head as soon as they tucked themselves comfortably against the crook of his neck. max paced back and forth for them, in hope his bouncy steps would calm them down.

"alright, lieve. you let me know when you do, okay?"

but he was only met by soft snores.

he peered down at his best friend's entire world, the axis to her existence, the reason behind her juggling her personal and professional world just to make sure they get only the best of both worlds. for that alone, max had already loved the kid like his own.

and he'd love to have them as his own, providing everything the kid's heart desire, knowing he could give them everything of it at a heartbeat. knowing he could give them what they deserve, after being deprived of a proper, fatherly love for so long.

if only she let him. if only she saw him as one.

but max knew it all boiled down to him. if only he'd denied her desire to get married to that good-for-nothing that turned out to be a cheating bastard she called her ex-husband, she wouldn't have to suffer everything of this on her own. the child didn't have to go through all the mess life would bring to someone so early in their age.

it pained him that he never let out the "marry me instead" that was poking the tip of his tongue when she'd asked you to be her men of honour. it hurt max verstappen to the point of no return, more than being robbed a championship win, that he could've had the smart kid with her instead from a long time ago, and a life he'd always dreamed of building.

with her, and no one else.

because he knew that whatever he was feeling right now, as he was holding her entire life in the home she built so hard despite the single-mother stigma, is the closest thing to right in this life that feels so wrong.

not even his multiple championship titles he had in his bag. not even the feeling of winning a race so many he'd grown accustomed to. per max verstappen's standard, that was given; with so much hard work he'd been putting since he could walk, thanks to his father.

his phone dinged, breaking his train of thought. it was the alarm that he'd set up to remind him of the checklist she'd made for him. the sound stirred the child in their sleep, and as they noticed him walking away from the room, they whined, "please stay, maxie."

like the effect of the mother had on him, he succumbed to the whim. but good lord, my goodness, there had never been something as liberating as that. it was a paradoxic feeling where you don't feel weak as you surrender yourself, instead it grew so much on him that someone needed him. it feels so damn good to be needed by someone, his heart soared so high as the revelation hit him.

maybe that was what max verstappen had been yearning for.

that one piece in his life that anyone around him didn't know how to fill the void. a home to go back to, he thought, as he fell asleep in such a ridiculous position to fit the crib's size.

but due to his lightning reflex towards every sound and movement around him, max jolted up when he heard a click of the door closing. it was small; he deducted it wasn't mean to be disturbing.

that could only be her checking up on him.

the kid was now drenched in sweat in his embrace, so he decided to change the pajamas first before heading out of the nursery. he did it as fast as he could because he knew she was making his favourite mushroom soup outside from the smell of it.

the pang on his chest came back as he got out of the child's room, only to be met by his best friend's back from the kitchen, busy scooping her signature delicacy to a bowl matching the set only designated for her and her child—his bowl—because it looked so domestic. they looked so domestic like this. they looked like they'd make a great family.

yes, it wasn't the first time they did this, but that was what made it hurt all the same everytime he came over.

"how was the surgery?"

just in time when she turned her body to him. she smiled immediately, both at the sight of a disheveled max and at the question thrown at her. max looked so bulky in the house full of her delicate touch, so different yet not out of touch, for his question brought warmth to her chest.

it'd been a while since someone had asked the question—the simplest question of asking how she'd been holding up at work—that didn't come out from her child's mouth. from someone who actually knew how hard it was to make a living. from someone who was genuinely interested at what she did. from someone all of the above.

"got a bleeding out of hand but all's good now," she'd spare the bloody detail later. right now, she just wanted to bask how peaceful their rhythms are as the f1 winner took a seat on the other end of the kitchen counter. "i hope my kid's not a hassle for you."

"you and your kid can never be a hassle to me," max made sure to stare down at her as he replied her, wanting her to know he wasn't kidding. "i love spending time with you two."

and it scared her deep down to see max so set on what he said. she could only hope he wasn't implying anything else behind his words, for she was afraid it would bring unattained hope to her heart.

despite her strong display she'd paraded around the town, she is only a human with two hands and feet and a heart. and she is a woman, first and foremost, who was once in love in max verstappen.

the real max verstappen before all the achievements, the fame, the titles. when max verstappen had eyes only for the glory, and never hungry for anything else.

but the one-sided journey could be so lonely, she never realised that. it resulted her finding love in a hopeless place. at least that was was she thought, love, until she discovered her ex was cheating with one of her fellow doctors.

so she knew she had to extinguish every kind of sparks before it grew stronger. especially now, where every of her decision doesn't only affect her, but her child also.

"spend your time for something else, max," she smiled bitterly now and max already hated whatever her mind fed her just seconds ago. "tell me, what's your favourite thing to do in your spare time? going for a vacation?"

"whatever it is we're doing now," max replied, soup still untouched. it frightened her that the eyes were not just set anymore; she'd recognised that winning determination anywhere. "wanna know why?"

she sat down, eyes trying to hold his, ignoring the fluttering feeling inside of her and set her mind to simply wanting to know the words he had in mind. max took it as an invitation to might as well break it down.

"because it's you. it's always been you."