#that was such a huge hole in my life and like no it hasn’t been filled obviously we’re just on better terms but

[strawberry-daiquiris]

wet and messy and/or intercrural for nortrell if it pleases u 🙏🏻😊 (kink prompts)

ty anon, this one was a fun one to kick off with!!!

warnings for some kind of gender thoughts that max hasn't totally worked out in his own head in this one!!!

for the kink generator ask game

****

“You’re not doing me up the arse again,” Max warns, when Lando’s hands start to wander the night he gets to Monaco. “So don’t get any funny ideas.”

Lando groans, and not the good kind, against his neck.

“But why?”

He hadn’t hated it, exactly. It’d just been a bit weird, arsehole out on the bed, feeling cold and then too warm, and then cold again. Max’d felt it for days, sitting weirdly in his sim rig and wondering if that was just his life now, if he’d had his insides altered permanently by Lando and his massive fuck off horse cock. It made him angry, that his body wasn’t made for it, not the way he’d like it to be.

“‘Cos,” Max argues, unconvincingly, but a little flick of his fingernail under Lando’s foreskin and he’s rendered the idiot unable to fight back. Typical. “It’s late Bob, I can’t be arsed with the fingering. I’ll give you a blowie instead, alright?”

Lando sighs, flopping back against the pillows. He lifts his hips up expectantly, and Max rolls his eyes at the same time as he fits his palm around his dick, stroking him slowly as they continue the negotiation. Lando’s got it in his head that once he’s started, he needs to be touched at all times, else it’ll go floppy.

When he told him, Max had to ask if that had actually really happened ever, and Lando went eight different shades of the pink-purple spectrum in ten seconds and blurted out the word once before he buried his face in the mattress and told Max to fuck off, he didn’t want to have sex anyway.

Max hasn’t asked again after that. 

“Rub off between your thighs?” Lando counters, to Max’s very nice offer to suck his dick. “S’more like a hole.”

“What, than my actual mouth hole?” 

Lando rolls his eyes and lands his hand on Max’s thigh, stroking through the downy hairs. Despite his protestations, Max can feel himself get going, his dick starting to twitch to life properly.

“Oh fine,” he relents, rolling onto his back and bringing his legs up a bit, his dick flapping against his stomach. “Whatever makes you fucking happy.”

Lando’s messy with the lube, pumping it vigorously onto himself and the backs of Max’s thighs, working his huge paw through the gap Max has left for him to fuck himself happy on. If he’s honest, Max could probably fall asleep like this, head resting on Lando’s expensive feather pillows, if it weren’t for the way Lando has to narrate everything.

“So fit, Max. D’you know it’s fucking sick you let me do this? I love your legs, and your moles, and so on.”

Max snorts, shifting a bit when Lando slides his dick in for the first time. There’s lube dripping down the backs of his thighs, coating his arse, like it’s dripping out of him. He tries to control himself, the urge to touch where Lando is pressed.

“Mm, yeah, potential skin cancer, talk about attractive,” he jokes, trying to distract himself.

Lando leans down and fits his mouth over Max’s knee, dragging his teeth along the graze he’s still healing from an unfortunate incident filming for Quadrant over in Sweden.

They’re not allowed to talk about it. Death, or danger, or any of that sort of stuff. Morbid humour is strictly for within the four walls of Tarkov, and the dark, gloomy series Lando likes them to watch on Netflix.

Max relents, reaching a hand between his legs to alter Lando’s angle so every thrust hits against the underside of his dick, brushes his balls. It feels good like that, like the warm and spongy parts are doing what they should.

“Like that, alright?”

Lando smiles, kissing over where he’s been biting, holding on for dear life as he starts to thrust properly.

“Does it feel good?”

Max sighs, closes his eyes. It always makes him feel a bit funny, how much Lando wants it to be good for both of them. It’d almost be easier if he didn’t care, wasn’t watching Max to make sure he’s satisfying him, wasn’t hell bent on making him his fucking wife, on top of the sex and the banter and the good chat.

He reaches out and takes Lando’s hand, threading their fingers together over his knee.

“Yeah, mate. It does.”

He jerks himself lazily, knuckles knocking against the head of Lando’s dick as it pokes obscenely through his thighs. Max thinks it looks a bit stupid. Would be hot with a girl, all smooth skin and cunt out, but his thighs just look messy, hair plastered down and sticky with it.

It only gets worse when he comes, striping his stomach, getting it in the smattering of hair on his chest. Lando’s reaction is immediate, reaching over to scrape his hand through the puddle, smearing it down Max until he can coat his dick in it, adding to the mess between his legs.

“Bob, for fuck’s sake,” Max is less forgiving now he’s come, and the fun’s over entirely. “It’s like a bog down there now.”

“S’good,” Lando says, voice dreamy, biting his lip into his mouth in a way that makes Max’s traitorous arsehole clench, fuck’s sake. “You’re so wet.”

“What,” Max laughs, nervous. “Like a girl?”

Lando nods furiously, as Max squeezes a bit tighter, using all the strength in his legs to make the hole as tight as possible. 

It’s enough for Lando to come, striping Max’s chest, his neck, his face.

“Yeah, bit like a girl, fuck.” Lando slumps forward. “That was so hot.”

Max closes his eyes, squeezing at the stranglehold of Lando’s fingers on his knee, and swallows it all down, deep, where he doesn’t touch.

“Next time,” he says quietly. “You can do it up the arse.”

[gojosprettyprincess]

Tw - Katsuki is soo mean, rough sex, degradation n manhandling. Not proofread!

One thing about Katsuki, he's an impatient man, that's for sure. There wasn’t any “Katsuki can i try to ride you�� or “pleaseee just let me do it by myself” none of that. He had enough of your shit.

He tsks mockingly, a derisive sound escaping his lips the moment his keen eyes detect that the rhythm of your alluring ass that’s bouncing on his cock becoming duller and slower. He's so fucking disappointed in himself for even giving you the chance to try and ride him.

How dumb.

What a waste of time.

He quickly grabs both of your supple asscheeks, his strong hands creating a sense of urgency as he firmly squeezes them, preventing you from moving away. He impatiently starts thrusting his hips up into you, entering you in one complete motion. The sudden force of his entire length, which you weren't even able to fit by yourself, invading your little pussy so easily made you squirm to quickly get a hold of his broad shoulders to steady yourself because you knew how fucking crazy he was when it came to with manhandling.

His crimson-red eyes locked onto your contouring features, swallowing up your adorable reactions with pure joy. He just loves bullying you like this. Katsuki was a wonderful partner, devoted, wealthy, and maybe not the most mature, but he was unquestionably aware of right from wrong when it comes to relationships. The only thing is, he’s just so so cruel and vulgar to you sometimes, especially during sex. Bakugou always had a huge ego and prideful personality so you can't say you were surprised before tangling yourself up with him.

When the early morning light streamed through the window, his routine began before even taking a bite of the breakfast you made, pumping your warm cunny full of cum before heading off to fulfill his manly responsibilities as a pro-hero. "Better keep my cum buried in this pussy, you got it?" he commanded sternly, his warm breath fanning against the delicate skin of your neck as you mewled at the harsh way the edge of the dinner table was digging into your poor abdomen. Crossing your thighs together so you could avoid any spillage of his sperm because you know he’d check when you go deliver his home-cooked lunch at his agency later in the day. And if you make one wrong move, you’ll be limping your way out of his agency.

Whether you like it or not, katsuki will always be mean when he’s fucking you. It’s a part of him, you’ve known that just by the way he acted. Always had an feisty attitude and angry issues with everyone around him but the difference is you fucking loved it, and of course he knew that, that’s why he indulges in it and constantly reminds you every single time how much of a horny little cock-whore you are, pussy slobbering uncontrollably all over his pretty cock like a nasty slut. The rim of your hole clinging onto his dick as if your life depended on it. It hasn’t even been five second since he walked through the door from work, still clad in his hero costume before his hard dick is nestled in his housewife's warm, runny sex.

Your pink panties slackly pulled to the side, revealing your tight hole for his vicious assault as he ruthlessly positioned himself to take advantage of your vulnerable state.

His gears and pants rubbing against the smooth flesh of your thighs, harshly marking it red. Poor Katsuki he couldn’t save a civilian from a villain attack today and now he’s so frustrated and mad so what better way to vent than abusing his pretty housewife’s comforting cunt? :(

“Tight fucking pussy, yer creaming all over me already. Bet you were thinking about my cock splitting you open the entire day, weren’t you princess?” He laughed tauntingly, his angry cock curving right into your g-spot making your toes curl in the air as his strong, big hands held an astonishingly tight grip on your waist to keep you off the floor while you bent over his marble counter. You always found it so sexy when Katsuki showed off his strength to you, after all, he’s one of the most strongest pro-heroes so of course he’d be unbelievably strong. You went crazy over it.

“Sukii– m’gonna fuck! Cum” you cried out, tears streaming down your eyes as his fat cock delved deeper into your core, repeatedly hitting your sweet spot over and over again, sending you into a daze as you lose your mind. “No, you fucking slut— always being such a greedy bitch. You’re not cumming until I’m ready to fill you up, ya hear me?” his tone was so serious, it sent shivers down your spine.

You quickly gripped the edge of the counter. Your soft, plush ass bouncing back against his hard pelvis with each forceful thrust. God, he loved the sight so much, he licked his lips at the delicious sight of the creamy mess you were creating, completely coating him and his balls with your juices. It made his cock throb against your walls at the lewd way your quirkless pussy was rightfully swallowing him in.

“Katsuki I–“ you stammered, struggling to find your words as fear washed over you. Your hole fluttered around him, you were seeing white at this point. Your inner muscles involuntarily clasped tightly around his length. You couldn’t help it, his cock was just so fucking long and thick, and well he knew how to skillfully use it that it made you become undone within five minutes. Your eyes bulged open with fear as the streaming white liquid from your cunt spattered onto his cock and thighs and onto his expensive marble floor. The action didn’t go unnoticed by him resulting in him quickly placing you down on the slick floor and violently smacking your fleshy ass, making it recoil against his touch as he groaned. “God, you’re such a dumb fucking slut, what did I tell you? Can’t even understand simple instructions that I give you”.

He swiftly extracted his cock from your soaked pussy and hoisted you over his huge shoulder before making his way to your shared bedroom. You cried out as your cunt twitched in anticipation as echoes of his firm, resounding spanks on your bruised ass reverberated through the room with each step he took, “M’gonna teach you a fucking lesson, better make sure this is the last time you fucking disobey me”.

[midnightsslut]

the way taylor singlehandedly repaired my relationship with my high school best friend

[blkkizzat]

ꨄ︎『Toji x TumblrSmutWriter!Reader』ꨄ︎

Toji x TumblrSmutWriter!Reader

18+ Minors - DNI

Summary: You shouldn't have left your phone out in the open bestie because now Toji just discovered his cute lil gf has a big slutty imagination and that means you're really in for it ❤︎ . CW: daddy/dilf kinks, humiliation, backshots, outdoor sex, toys, voyerism, breeding, overstimulation, lots of mentions of various kinks, light spanking, light spit play, meta concepts WK: 4.2k Black fem reader coded but no descriptors.

A/N: Y’all can blame my forgetting to take my adhd meds and my hangover yesterday for this one. I was laying on my bathroom floor regretting life choices, waiting on McDs Doordash and thinking up outlines for kinktober when this popped into my head. I thought it would be a quick drabble like 1k words to help my writers block with the "Bumpy Ride" Geto fic but lord knows I can't write shit under 3k, who am I foolin? I don’t even have a song inspo for how spontaneous and random this shit was lmfao but I still had to do a graphic for this one regardless (editing those notifications were hell). Edit- I lied the song inspo is: Girls Need Love Remix - Summer Walker ft. Drake.

Enjoy!

Imagine you are dating Toji and he finds out you secretly write Tumblr smut fics on the low. 

He comes over to your apartment one night after one of his ‘jobs’ ran late. He has a key, but is wondering where the hell you are as you usually greet him at the door. Going into your bedroom, he finally hears you in adjoining bathroom shower. 

Toji begins to strip down in order to join you but he barely has his shirt off before he notices your phone blowing up. 

Picking your phone up off the bed he sees 206 notifications from an app called “Tumblr”. 

Toji has no fucking clue what the hell a Tumblr is but his jealously starts to soar. He already made your ass go private on Instagram and deleted your Tiktok dances. He got tired of threatening every loser who tried to slide in your DMs or even leave a comment for that matter. 

Imagine his surprise when he unlocks your phone (of course he had made you give him the password) and instead he finds out his new vanilla-as-fuck girlfriend is actually a kinky cockwhore who loves writing character x reader stories about fictional men plugging any n' every one of her holes. Sometimes it was multiple men simultaneously, with their massive cocks bullying your readers until you had them crying. Not to mention them fucking you absolutely stupid in every scenario imaginable, with a huge daddy kink/love of dilfs to top it all off. 

Y/N clearly has type, Toji thought smugly as he saw some art on your page of these animated dilfs that looked similar to him.

But goddamn, some of this shit even he hasn’t considered doing with you yet. Honestly, he’s been holding himself back for your sake as you had been pretty shy at first. His sweet naive little college girl, yet here you were a filthy closeted slut this entire time. 

Tsk, Y/N been holding out on me, eh?

At this point you were probably a bigger freak than he was, he mused with an arched brow as he scrolled through what you called your ‘masterlist’.

It was nothing but a collection of pure unadulterated filth. 

More than anything though while going through your Tumblr, Toji is rather impressed at how popular you are. He reads your intro post where you deem yourself the ‘Self-proclaimed DILF Smut Queen’ and an evil grin appears on his face.

Toji abandons his plans to join you in the shower and he waits for you on your bed while he links-surfs through more of your so-called fics, drabbles and thirsts.

You made your own little pictures to go along with your dirty stories too? Aw, what a sneaky yet talented little whore he had. 

ꨄ

When you finally exit the shower, wrapped only in a big fluffy white towel and your hair pulled back into a ponytail, you are surprised to see Toji sitting shirtless on your bed. 

Toji had promised to be here hours ago. He never even sent a text saying he would be late and you’ve been bored waiting for him all evening so he could give you some of the attention you've been craving. 

Your body is already warm from the shower and your legs rub together as you are already feeling a bit horny just seeing him bare chested.

Walking toward the bed you are eager to go pounce on his lap. That is, until you see it’s your phone he’s scrolling through again without your permission.

You loudly sigh which made his head snap up to look at you.

You’re so ready to tell him off again and remind him your Insta is still private and you only use TikTok to mindlessly scroll, not post dance videos anymore when gives you a dangerous look.

You stop dead in your tracks.

Your eyes grow wide as saucers as you recognize what he’s actually looking at when waves your phone around tauntingly in his hands. 

No.No.No. Not this. Please god, not this!

But your worst fears are confirmed when he starts reading aloud with a huge shit eating grin. 

“You moaned loudly as you threw your head back and bucked against him hungrily. You knew you had to finish quickly unless you wanted his wife to come home to discover the babysitter on top of her husband, making a mess all over his face. His thick tongue lapped into your drenched folds and he spread your puffy pussy lips wider to suck and nip at your swollen clit….” 

Your mouth was agape in shock. You were a deer in headlights.

A million and one thoughts raced through your mind as Toji continued on. He swiped over to the next one, this time a daddy and breeding kink drabble.

“Or how ‘bout… ‘Take it all like the good little slut you are for daddy, Y/N’. ‘N-No daddy, please I can’t cum anymore!’ You babbled as you succumbed to the overstimulation of him ruthlessly breeding your stretched cunt and filling you as you squirted on his dick for the fifth time that night…” 

You could only continue to stand there and gawk at him. This couldn’t actually be happening to you right now.

“Ya really wrote all this nasty shit, Y/N?” Toji teased while still looking at your phone as he found more of your filthy smut to read aloud to you despite the horrified expression on your face.

You of course had written all that ‘nasty shit’ but most of it was before you started dating him, breaking a long dry spell.

You really weren’t one to run the streets and sleep around but you had some kinky ass fantasies and you not getting any action had you needing to express them somehow.

It’s not like you didn’t eventually plan to open up and share a few of your kinks with Toji down the line. But this was a relatively new relationship and Toji was still a bit intimidating to you. Even though Toji treated you with way more care and concern than he did anyone else you’ve seen him interact with, you still had an insecure fear that he would reject you for a few of your kinks. 

Your last boyfriend had called you a weirdo for wanting to call him daddy in bed, so you resolved then to no longer share that part of you.

Hell, not even your IRL friends knew what you got up to. Only the Tumblr followers and moots, who you all shared peaceful anonymity with, were familiar with you and your writing.

Fuck. You had finally found the perfect DILF daddy too, you didn't want to scare him away. 

You cursed yourself for even opening Tumblr earlier. You did so out of restlessness waiting on his ass to come over. You just were going to read a few fics before you realized you had a story in your drafts you never posted that just needed to be proofread.

Wanting to kill time you decided to edit and post it on a whim, not knowing the mess it would be getting you into now. 

“Earth to, Y/N.” Toji snapped his fingers, interrupting your thoughts.

"Where did my perverted baby’s little mind go off to now, huh? So obsessed with being ruined by imaginary cocks you can’t even respond to your own daddy.”

You could have combusted on the spot as you were sure there was more steam coming off you from embarrassment than from the hot shower you had just taken. 

But wait– wtf, your frazzled mind just connected the fact Toji had referred to himself as your daddy. 

Those words sinking in made your entire body tingle. Your pulse quickened as you chewed your bottom lip and fidgeted with the edge of your towel.

Was he also into this?

The fact was Toji was very into this and you were about to find out just how much he was.

Enjoying your reactions fully, Toji stood up and made his way toward you with a crazed look on his face.

“You’ve written 96 pieces of filth Y/N…”

He inched closer and you instinctively moved back. Every fiber of your body sensing the danger in front of you. You wondered if this is how the targets of his ‘jobs’ felt when he approached them. Toji never lied to you about what he did for work but you never felt like you were his prey, until now.

“You’ve been a very naughty girl, have you nothing to say for y’erself, princess?” 

“I-I-I-”, you stumble over your own words. This was all way too much, way too fast, for you to process in order to say anything coherent back to him.

“I-I-I-” Toji mocked your pathetic tone, an evil grin back on his face. 

“Lost your words, Y/N?”

Your body instinctively keeps moving back to keep distance between the two of you as he continues to advance on you.

“But you have so many words to say here, isn’t that right slut?”

Toji toyed with your phone in his hand, spinning it around.

“Slut. That’s what you liked to be called in these stories, eh? The dirty slutty whore with a sloppy cunt just ready to slime all over her daddy’s cock, yeah?”

You gulped as your back hit the glass of your bedroom balcony door with a ‘thud’. You had no more room to run while Toji closes in on you.

He pressed both of his massive hands against the glass as they framed your head, his body hovering over you. You couldn’t help but notice how much bigger than you he was as his frame enveloped you and blocked out the rest of the room. You were trapped.

Too nervous to look him in the eyes, you settled for his chest and Toji’s muscles flexed tantalizingly under your gaze. You lost yourself for a moment as the familiar scent of his heady masculine musk invaded your senses.

Your eyes roamed lower and lower before resting on the bulge beneath his sweats and you softly pant. 

“You’re staring at my dick like you want me to stuff that pretty little throat cunny of yours full. You aren’t making good use of your mouth right now anyway Y/N, might as well see how much of me it can fit.”

You looked away from him completely but that only ignites Toji's flames more.

“Look me in the eyes little girl...” Toji’s hand roughly grabbed your jaw and squished your cheeks together as he brought his face closer to yours.

“This shy act won’t cut it anymore, slut.”

His intensity was overwhelming you. Various emotions threaten to bubble to the surface as you squirm in his grasp and your eyes become glossy with tears.

“You didn’t think you finally had a man who would be into this wild ass shit, now did you?”

You wanted to question him further but you felt your gravity shift as the balcony door whipped open behind you. Toji ripped off the towel covering you as you practically tumbled backwards onto the small landing buttass naked.

The crisp fall night air hits your dampened skin giving you goosebumps. You shiver and immediately drop down in a crouch to cover yourself. 

“T-Toji!! Are you insane?!” You gasped at him in a hushed tone, your silence finally broken. 

Promptly, you scan the seemingly deserted neighborhood streets through the railing for any sign of movement or signal that someone else was outside.

To your relief there was no one in sight.

Thankfully this was a relatively quiet neighborhood and no one was ever really out at this time of night. Nevertheless the shock of it all was sending your nerves into overdrive.

“Toji my ass bitch. It’s daddy to you moving forward–,” he roared jerking you up off the ground, “–and we are going to do every single fucking thing your slutty mind has ever fucking written starting NOW.” 

Your eyes darted as around him if you wanted to run back inside but there was no getting past his brutish build as he quickly slammed the door shut, shaking the frame.

Frankly, you didn’t know whether to be thrilled or terrified as you had written some depraved ass shit over the past year in the midst of your cockdrought. Some of it you had never even seriously thought of actually doing IRL. 

“Let’s start right ‘ere, eh? Did you think I wouldn’t notice the description of the place in your little balcony story matched your own?” 

Your eyes almost popped out of your skull as you recalled what you wrote in that particular smut fic.

ꨄ 

“A-AH! N-NOOO TOJI, W-WAIIIIIIIT!” You whined through gritted teeth. 

You tried (and failed) not to release any noises from the unrelenting backshots Toji was currently giving you as he folded you over the balcony railing. The tips of your toes barely rested on the cold floor as your ass bounced back into him and had your clit throbbing when his heavy balls smacked against the sensitive nub.

You had previously only fantasized about Toji being this rough with you, but now that it was actually happening for real you couldn’t think straight. Your lungs burned from sucking in the frosty night air and your cunt pulsed from his thick girth stretching you open. 

Shockwaves ran along your body with every cruel thrust of his hips. The force of it reduced your legs to jelly and you were sure you would have collapsed had he not had you suspended like you were, between him and the railing. 

Toji seemed both unfazed by the cold and your cries for mercy as he shushed you with a harsh spank. He enjoyed the way your fat ass rippled under his heavy hand in the moonlight so much he gave you a few more for good measure.

Your tits violently swayed over the edge as one of your hands grasped the railing for stability and the other held your phone in front of you. Toji was making you dictate your story for him as he reenacted the play by play assault on your cunt.  

The bright screen you held was near blinding to your teary eyes. You mentally cringed as you knew it would act as a shiny beacon to view your activities if anyone walked by the small apartment complex or hell, even stepped out on their balcony. 

“T-Toj- Daddy, w-what ‘bout– neigh-h-b-bor-s?”

You managed to croak out over the sloshing of your cunt and slapping sounds of flesh that echoed into the atmosphere everytime he rammed into you. You couldn’t bear to look around to see if any of your neighbors had started to investigate.

“Pshhh, Fuck your neighbors Y/N! They clearly don’t have a cockcrazed baby to please that writes dirty little stories about imaginary men like I do.”

If you didn’t know better you would think he was actually jealous of the DILFs in your stories too from the way he was sadistically fucking into you. 

His thrusts caused your icy tears to run down your face and sent your tits bouncing into the wind. Your cold and neglected nipples hardened in the chill to the point of delicious pain.

“B-but- it's too c-cold out D-Daddy!”

“Mmn, yet your pussy feels warm enough, Y/N. Too hot even. This is for your benefit, you know–,” Toji stated matter-of-factly while he increases the speed his pounding into you, “–So you remember you have your own Daddy who will fuck you anyway you want, anytime you want…just, fuck, tell Daddy what his slutty baby needs.”

The way his hips are driving into your core knocks the wind out of you. Toji tightens the already brutal grip on your hips which assists him in pressing deeper into your cunt. The movement has you almost slipping. You nearly drop your phone off the balcony when your toes stepped in the growing pool of shared juices flowing down your legs and collecting at your feet.

“Hold that shit tight for daddy baby, got it? You drop it and we gotta start over, yeah? I’ll make you walk downstairs ass naked just like this to get it too,” Toji breathed out huskily. 

You realize you’ve never heard him sound this needy before now.

“What’s next, in y’er lil’ story huh?… Speak up so I can hear it over this messy cunt.” 

There was an edge of desperation for you clear in his tone. Although to your dismay it causes your body to gush around him harder meaning you would have to speak up even louder as your pussy squelches grew more vulgar in volume. 

You nearly shouted out the next part groaning and mixing in incoherent babbles throughout the smut filled paragraph as Toji doesn't slow to help you. If anything Toji picks up speed and grows even harder inside of you as he's encouraged by his baby's filthy words.

“...H-he- lifts your leg, r-resting your knee on the edge of the bal-c-cony. T-T-The angle allows h-him, fuck, deeper access to your c-cunt. Ah-h-h-a clear view of his c-cock badgering your core f’er a-anyone who happens to p-pass belowwww-ohmygod. Y-you seeeeee s-stars as he callously s-slams into your c-cervix, shitshitshit, n-nearly fa-fa-fucking you off the balcony if not for his s-strong hold on youuuu–ah. Y-you violently t-tremble as you c-cum s-screamiiiiing, not fuckdaddyfuckkkk, caring if your n-neighbors could s-see or h-hear you any l-longer.”

“HA! Is that so–” Toji lifts your leg just like you wrote in your fic, “–guess I am gonna to have to keep fucking this tight cunt until you no longer give a fuck about anything else but this dick, eh?”

You hear what sounds like a door slide open near you and you begin to whine about your neighbors again before Toji jerks your head back by your ponytail to whisper in your ear. 

“I wouldn’t worry that nasty, pretty little head of yours about these neighbors babydoll…” 

The new angle allows Toji to bury himself deeper into you just like you told in your story and his tip hits your cervix so hard you think he might actually penetrate. 

“...if I were you Y/N... I would think about how daddy’s needy lil whore is gonna make it through an entire day of classes tomorrow with clamps on your nipples and a remote control vibrator up your cunt.”

He licked the side of your face and spit in your mouth before carelessly pushing your head back. You loudly moaned as his bruising grip returned to your meaty hips as his nonstop aggressive assault on your cunt proceeds.

You feel yourself getting close, your eyes rolled back into your head and drool seeped down the corners of your mouth. You cursed your weakness for this shit as you felt yourself give into the pleasure. You surprise even yourself as you never actually thought this kinda sex could be so fucking good you wouldn’t care about shit else for real. 

“Goddamn mamas, squeezing me so hard–” Toji’s hips snapped into you with every syllable, his voice becoming more animalistic, “–you want me to fill this pussy up? Mmm, I fucking know you do the way she’s milking me. Fuck, might even put a baby in you, give ‘gumi a sibling. We won’t be able to do some of that kinky shit you wrote unless I knock a baby up in this cunt, ya know.”

Of course, Toji being the sexy ass DILF straight out of your dreams would love breeding kinks too.

His ramblings cause you to tighten and clench around him even more. You’ve wanted to beg for him like this since you first started dating. Just thinking of the words spilling out of your mouth nearly pushed you over the edge.

You were so close to release.

“I-Inside me D-Daddy pleasepleaseplease!,” you slobbered out, struggling to make sentences from all the pleasure within you.

“F-fill me– fill me D-Daddy, knock this tight little cunt up, w-want it– want it– w-want it–!!!”

Your voice caught in your throat and you nearly choked once you felt your peak hit. Your pussy sent tremors around his dick as you creamed around him. You can't think of anything else but him inside of you.

You just came but Toji allowed you no rest. He still pummeled inside you as he chased his own high and slurred vulgar curses of praise for his pretty lil’ whore's dirty mind, while planning the next debaucherous smut for you both to reenact.

“Ya think it's too late now f’er prime next day delivery for those toys, baby? Fuck, look that up while y’er still holding that phone.”

You didn’t even realize you still had your phone in your hand but were just thankful you didn’t drop yet. You didn't think it would survive the fall.

Groaning you tried to rally the strength to even lift the phone to face unlock when you locked eyes with someone below. You instantly recognized the person as the elderly woman with the flower garden from down the street.

The old lady had always been very kind to you, making pleasant conversation, offering you fresh flowers for your kitchen and praising you for how reminded her of her own sweet young daughter at your age. 

Unfortunately for you both, she was casually walking her two mini poodles when her eyes were affronted with you practically hanging off the balcony. A blissed out expression plastered across your face while Toji held you, battering your slick pussy full of his thick cock.

The old woman’s eyes widened in terror as if she actually witnessed a crime scene as she panicked, yanking her two dogs away swiftly back in the direction of her home. You knew you would have to take the long way home from now on.

Nevertheless Toji, who was none the wiser and wouldn’t give a single fuck regardless, merely continued planning out your next smut fic enactment.

“Nah fuck it, we’re going to the library tomorrow. See how many pages you can read of that dull ass biology book while y’er warming my cock... Tch, or should we do the one where y’er fucking the coach in the men’s locker room, whacha think baby?”

"Hmmmnmmrgh", you could only moan in reply.

You were already near hyperventilating from your own climax, the shame of now having to avoid your neighbor for life and Toji’s fiery body creating a storm of friction clashing with the freezing temperatures.

But your senses were now wholly overloaded once you felt him reach down to pinch and rub at your clit. 

“Cum again with Daddy baby, shit, can ya do that f’er me?” Toji sounded like he was close and he slapped your clit even harder causing you to scream out.

Cockdrunk and overstimulated you could no longer communicate as your entire body felt like it was an extension of your pussy. The thick fluids flowing out of your body increased the sizable puddle already at your feet. You utterly surrendered to the feeling and your body wrecked with pleasure electrifying you. 

You almost blackout as you feel his cock bust hot seed into your tummy melting your insides and causing you to cum all over again.

"Fuck, that’s it, take it all. Can't wait to see this belly and these tits full mama."

The aftershock of your orgasm feels near endless as Toji continues to fuck thick ropes of his cum into you. 

Losing track of time you weren’t sure how long it was before Toji finally pulled out and took you off the railing. Holding on to you so you can balance and turning you to face him he places you down on your unsteady feet. You immediately bury your head into his chest as his heat envelops your cold skin. Your breathing finally starts to calm in his embrace. 

“So good f’er daddy babygirl,” he murmurs into your hair, savoring your scent.

“Warm bath, yeah?”

“Sure, but you gotta carry me daddy.”

You yawned while Toji’s already lifting you princess style in his strong arms. You were exposed still in the night but at the same time you have never felt safer. 

You curl further into his warmth as he kisses your forehead and finally brings you back inside.

Once inside the bathroom Toji sets you down on the edge of the tub while the water runs and he leaves to grab some fresh towels.

You can’t help but feel euphoric as you smiled to yourself. You are too giddy!

You finally have the DILF daddy you always wanted and could be open about your kinks without any judgment. 

However your mood shifts when Toji returns. You give him an incredulous look as you see your pink waterproof vibrator in his hands. 

Toji turns it on and saunters over to you, his scar twisted into a devilish smirk.

“95 more fuckfics to go ma’, we don’t have time to waste…”

Fucking hell, you had entirely forgotten about the overstimulation in the bath drabble. 

You quiver in both anticipation and distress as you aren’t sure how your completely spent and nearly frozen body is gonna be able to cum four more times tonight. 

Could there ever be too much of a good thing?

You weren't sure what those limits were exactly.

“Ya know, Y/N–," Toji started slyly, interrupting your thought.

”If I hit up Shiu and you asked him nicely with that pretty lil' mouth, I’m positive he would be down for some double daddy Eiffel Tower action.”

However from the feral grin on Toji’s face he appeared determined to test those limits with you.

You could thank your Tumblr smut fics for that. 

© ʙʟᴋᴋɪᴢᴢᴀᴛ 2023. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ, ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ ꜰɪᴄꜱ, ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇꜱ, & ɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ. ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʙʏ ᴍᴇ ᴜɴʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀᴡɪꜱᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇᴅ. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ.

A/N: I honestly have to say I am a bit impressed with myself as I’ve never finished a story in one day before ever (although it took most of today to proofread and I still think there might be errors soz). Hopefully this is a good sign for powering through those Kinktober fics once classes start up again this Weds. Also If there is any interest possibly a PT 2 after Kinktober featuring a threesome with Shiu at his office.

Edit: errors/grammar fixed as of 9/26.

This one goes out to all of us dilf smut queens who simp Toji ❤︎

Please reblog to have DILF Daddy Toji dick you down, but likes and comments are always appreciated just the same!

[azzibuckets]

them kissing at the top of the ferris wheel i BEG. and maybe throw in some angst if u feel like it, adding flashbacks to them doing this every year even when they were just “friends” or the line between friends and something else…?

state of us

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

a/n: i wrote this in one setting omfg so this is very unedited but i hope you guys love this just as much as i do!!! enjoy :)

word count: 2.6k

masterlist

August 2017

Azzi has always looked forward to the state fair; it’s one of the few times a year she gets to see her extended family in Minnesota and gorge herself on cookies and corn dogs and all the likes. But something about this year is special, and Azzi would be lying if she said it wasn’t due to the blonde girl whose hand she’s currently holding.

“I still can’t believe I’ve lived in Minnesota my entire life and I’ve never been here,” Paige marvels, jaw slightly dropped in awe as she takes in her surroundings. Azzi is usually like Paige, letting herself get lost in the exhilarating combination of the smell of greasy, buttery foods and the cheery sound of lively music and the smiles on everyone’s faces, but for some reason this year she’s fully and entirely captivated by Paige.

“It’s like the one time of year my parents let us eat whatever we want,” Azzi informs her friend, nodding towards her little brothers who are stuffing themselves with cotton candy. Her and Paige both look at each other and share a giggle before quickly averting their eyes. It’s a novel feeling, the butterflies in Azzi’s belly that erupt every time she holds Paige’s gaze for a little too long. It’s the same feeling she gets when their knuckles brush, or when Paige is being annoying and insists on putting her head in Azzi’s lap whenever they’re lying on the couch. And it’s a scary feeling, so far from what she feels towards all of her other friends, but it’s one that makes her lightheaded and dizzy in the best way possible, a feeling she desperately chases after.

Even now, Azzi tightens her fingers around Paige’s. Her palm is starting to collect sweat, but she prays to the gods that Paige won’t notice. She’s not ready to let go just yet.

Azzi clears her throat. They’ve been silent for a little too long, and the air between them is tense. “I buy a huge bucket of cookies every year,” she continues. “Maybe if you’re nice to me today I’ll let you have some.”

Paige scrunchs her eyebrow in feigned indignation. “I’m always nice to you.”

“Well I guess you gotta be especially nice today.” Then Azzi lets go of her hand, throwing Paige a wink over her shoulder before running to catch up with the rest of their family. Paige doesn’t have enough time to figure out what Azzi’s words mean before Katie starts calling for her too.

They’re in line for the ring toss when Jose pokes Paige hard in the back. The blonde whips around, ready to jokingly give the 11 year old a piece of her mind. But before she can even get a word out, Jose says, “That guy in the very back of the line wants me to tell you that he thinks you’re cute,” then skips away to find Jon.

Paige is confused. She glances towards the huddle of teenage boys 50 feet away and sees one of them, a lanky boy with a mop of unruly brown hair, give her a smirk. Cheeks hot, she turns back to Azzi. “Um,” she stutters, seemingly unable to find her bearings. The topic of boys has certainly come up in her and Azzi’s conversations before, but only when gossiping about their teammates or their friends. In the year she’s known Azzi, Paige hasn’t brought up a single of her own crushes, and neither has Azzi. It’s like an unspoken rule floating between them, a rule now irreparably broken by a boy too bold for his own good.

Azzi’s staring at the laces of her shoes. “You should go talk to him,” she says. She tries to keep her voice casual, calm, but she knows by the shift in Paige’s body language that it was too strained, too forced.

“Why?” Paige’s eyes are burning a hole into Azzi’s forehead. “I don’t even know him.”

Azzi shrugs, toes the dirt with the tip of her shoe. Her heart is beating erratically, and she doesn’t know why. “He thinks you’re cute.”

Paige takes another look at the boy. He is handsome, with striking blue eyes and dimples in his cheeks. But when she looks back at Azzi’s frowning face, she wishes it was her dimples that she could see and not his. “I don’t want to,” Paige says decisively, narrowing her eyes at the boy to show that she’s not interested.

Azzi’s head snaps up. “Why not?”

It’s Paige’s turn to look away. “I dunno. What if we hang out and he tries to steal my first kiss or something?“

Azzi’s body grows hot at the idea of imagining Paige’s first kiss. “Would that be so bad?”

“I want my first kiss to be special,” Paige responds. She takes in Azzi, who’s wearing a neon blue tank top and workout shorts. Her cheeks are a little flushed from the late summer heat. There’s a little curl of hair that escaped from her bun, damp from the humidity of the day. Paige wants to brush it behind Azzi’s ear. So she does. She leans forward and lets her thumb trail across Azzi’s cheek before swiping at the curl, moving it away from Azzi’s eyes. “I don’t wanna do the ring toss anymore,” she says.

Azzi swallows. “We could go on the ferris wheel?” she suggests timidly.

“Okay.”

And before she knows it, Paige’s hand is in Azzi’s again, the older girl letting the younger girl guide them through the maze of bodies. And although Azzi’s hand is a little bit damp and Paige has always hated sweaty hands, not for a single second does the thought of pulling away cross her mind.

Paige drops into the bench across Azzi’s, and the operator shuts the door behind them. The car rocks unsteadily, and Paige glances around nervously.

“It’s okay,” Azzi reassures. “These things are stronger than they look.”

“I hope so.”

Azzi cocks her head curiously. “Come sit with me.”

“Are you sure?” Paige asks tentatively. “What if it makes the car go off balance?”

With a roll of her eyes, Azzi gets up and plants herself next to the blonde. She rubs her hand across Paige’s back, noting the tenseness of her shoulders. “Are you scared right now?” Azzi snickers.

“No!” Paige says defensively. “I’ve just heard stories about fair rides.”

“I didn’t know you were a pussy.”

“Shut up,” Paige demands, but she finds herself leaning into Azzi’s touch. She blames it on her slight fear of heights, but deep down she knows it’s because she’ll never be able to get enough of Azzi.

“I didn’t like it,” Azzi confesses after a brief moment of silence. “Knowing you could’ve left me to hang out with some guy.”

“I would never leave you.” Paige’s eyes are bright in the falling light of the evening, and they hold a promise that Azzi doesn’t yet know will stay true for the rest of their lives. But for now, the soft way Paige is looking at her gives her the boldness to say, “I haven’t had my first kiss either.” She drops her hand from Paige’s back. “I’m too scared.”

“What’re you scared of?” Paige’s voice is barely a whisper.

“That I won’t like it. That they’ll be too rough. Or they’ll say I’m a bad kisser.”

“They?”

Azzi looks down.

“I like girls too.” The words take a second to register in Azzi’s brain, but when they do, she feels defensiveness rise in her chest. “I never said I liked girls,” Azzi said, her voice holding slight traces of panic.

Paige’s lips twist in a frown. “It’s not wrong to like girls.”

“I know, I just….”

“It’s my first time saying it out loud.” Paige cracks a smile. “If that makes you feel better.”

Azzi lets out a breathy laugh. “It’s just hard to tell, sometimes, ya know?”

“I know.” Paige worries her lower lip nervously. “But maybe I could help?”

Azzi’s eyebrows furrow. “What do you mean?”

“Like…I could help you confirm whether or not you like girls?” Paige sounds uncertain. “And then…and then your first time wouldn’t have to be with some random asshole.”

Azzi stares at her best friend. She flips Paige’s words over in her brain, trying to make sense of it all. “You want me to kiss you?”

Paige looks flustered. “I don’t want you to. I mean, I don’t not want you to, I just-,” she closes her eyes briefly, taking her time to collect her thoughts. “I’m just offering to. You know? I wouldn’t mind. That way my first kiss can be with someone I trust too.”

Paige waits patiently for Azzi’s response. Her knee’s been jiggling against the hot metal of the bench, but the weight of Azzi’s hand from where she’s now placed it on her thigh quickly stops her movements.

Before her doubts can stop her, Azzi leans in, placing a hand firmly at the back of Paige’s neck. She presses her mouth to Paige’s, letting it linger there for a few seconds before pulling away. “There,” she says shakily. “Our first kiss.”

Paige stares at Azzi, dazed, both of them silent and still as the car slows to a stop, back at the bottom. Azzi realizes that she’s forgotten to take a picture of the sunset at the top like she’s done every year. She wonders what she’s gonna say when her mom asks about it later. Fear creeps into her heart as she realizes the gravity of what they’ve just done. It’s hard to make sense of the rapid beating of her heart, the fresh memory of Paige’s lips molded so perfectly against her own, with the growing panic in her chest that nothing will be the same ever again.

The operator opens the door. “You girls enjoy the ride?” he asks, a smile on his face.

Azzi climbs out in a rush, brushing past the operator without saying a word. Paige takes her time, picking up the water bottle that Azzi forgot and clutching it to her body. “Thanks,” she says tightly to the operator as she exits.

“No problem. Hope your friend feels better. The ferris wheel’s feeling a bit rockier than usually a lot today.”

It takes every bit of strength in Paige to not start crying right then and there.

August 2018

Paige has spent every day of the last year thinking about that kiss on the ferris wheel. And now that, almost exactly a year later, she’s in the car again, surrounded by the intoxicating scent of Azzi’s perfume, she can’t help but think about what Azzi’s hands would feel like tangled in her hair.

When Azzi looks up from her phone and meets Paige’s eyes, she knows there’s no use to try and wrangle any self control out of her body. Forcing herself to sit across from Paige instead of next to her this time doesn’t work. Within moments, she’s across the car, her hands on Paige’s waist. Her lips brush ever so gently against Paige, and she pauses, waiting for the blonde to stop her. When she doesn’t, Azzi swipes her tongue gently across Paige’s bottom lip, and this year their kiss lasts just a little bit longer.

August 2019

“I’m not gonna kiss you.”

Azzi has a date waiting for her at home, a handsome football player who she’s been texting all summer.

Paige looks at her coolly. “Okay.”

They’ve been tense all day. Their parents think it’s the heat wave combined with the stress of school starting. Paige wonders what her dad would say if he knew it was because she’s been thinking about the ferris wheel all day, a mix of dread and anticipation pooling in her stomach.

They’ve spent the entire ride sitting across from each other, their knees just barely touching. And kudos to them, they are better this year - they almost make it the entire ride.

But just 15 feet up from the ground, Azzi is on Paige’s lap, and she doesn’t know how she got there, but she’s not complaining, not when Paige is whimpering against her mouth like this.

They break apart when the operator opens the door, both of their chests heaving, neither of them daring to look at each other.

“This is the last time,” Azzi swears.

“The last time,” Paige repeats.

August 2020

Paige almost didn’t make it this year.

She should be at UConn right now, prepping for her first day of college in a few days. But one text from Azzi, one word saying Please, and she’d bought a plane ticket to Minnesota.

This time, Paige is the one to cross the boundary. This time, Paige fists Azzi’s shirt in her hand and pulls her into a searing kiss. Paige hasn’t said goodbye yet, but she hopes that the way she cups Azzi’s face in her hands and presses their lips together is enough.


Paige pulls away. She doesn’t know she’s crying until Azzi’s wiping at her tears with her thumb.

“I’m gonna miss you,” Azzi whispers.

They’ve spent almost half a year together, starting from when Paige moved in with the Fudds to train during lockdown. She’d stayed for most of the summer too, basically living in Azzi’s skin until her dad had forced her to return home.

“Come to UConn,” Paige urges.

“Paige.”

“Azzi.”

Azzi leans her forehead against Paige’s. “Okay. I’ll think about it.”

August 2021

“We’re gonna look so good on the court together.”

Azzi laughs, poking Paige’s cheek affectionately. “You’re insufferable. I’m gonna get so tired of you.”

“Oh yeah?” Paige presses a kiss to Azzi’s cheek, then begins working down her jawline, her lips burning into Azzi’s skin. “You’re gonna get tired of this?”

Azzi arches into Paige’s touch. “Paige,” she pants.

“Does this count as following our tradition?”

“You gotta kiss me on the mouth,” Azzi, always a stickler for rules, insists, but when Paige’s lips move downward to suck that sweet spot on her neck, she quickly shuts up.

August 2021

“I’m not letting you forget this time.” Paige nudges Azzi with her camera.

“Kiss me.”

Paige obeys.

They spend the rest of the ride arguing over who gets to keep the polaroid.

August 2022

Azzi kisses Paige. It’s short and sweet and all too reminiscent of 5 years ago, when they were young and dumb but still in love.

“Marry me?”

Azzi shoves Paige. “Don’t say that.”

“Why not?”

“I mean it. Don’t say it unless you have a ring.”

Paige’s eyes are hopeful. “So you’d marry me?”

“I’ve been willing to marry you since we met, you idiot.” Azzi kisses Paige again, and this time they’re smiling against each others lips.

August 2023

“I’m starting to think your NIL money is good for nothing.”

“Didn’t I just buy you a corn dog?”

“I still don’t see a ring.”

Paige rolls her eyes and shuts Azzi up with a kiss.

August 2024

“One more year, baby.”

“Stop reminding me.” Azzi turns away from Paige, her face pulled into a pout.

“It’s gonna be our year.” Paige nestles her chin onto Azzi’s shoulder. “Best backcourt duo in the nation.”

“Don’t jinx us.”

Paige wiggles her fingers into the younger girl’s ribs. “Stop being so negative.”

Azzi laughs, a beautiful sound Paige has memorized for years now. “Kiss me and maybe I’ll stop.”

Paige’s lips are familiar to Azzi. But Azzi wants more. She wants Paige, all of her. Paige needs to hurry up and buy that damn ring.

August 2025

Azzi: Missing you

Azzi: Attachment: 1 Image

Paige: screw this game

Paige: i swear i’m buying a plane ticket rn

Azzi: Stop, your team needs you

Azzi: Save me that kiss for later

Paige: i love u more than anything else in this world

Paige: so much more than basketball

Paige: i will literally leave this locker room rn all u gotta do is say the word baby

Azzi: Don’t worry, I’ll eat enough cookies for the two of us

Azzi tucks her phone into her pocket, stares out the window. Recently the homesick ache in her heart has become more familiar than the feeling of Paige’s lips, and she hates it. This next year of getting used to long distance will be the hardest year of their relationship so far, but she knows it’ll be worth it.

August 2026

She knows it’ll be worth it because Paige finally bought the goddamn ring.

“Will you marry me?”

Azzi sinks into Paige’s arms. 10 years.

“Fuck yeah.”

They kiss.

[atlabeth]

price of dreaming

series masterlist

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader

summary: luke's spiral and the part you play in it.

a/n: this is so sad i'm sorry. like it's just a couple thousand words of luke being sad with a cute little flashback and a percy mention to make it all more sad. i don't know what's wrong with me why did i start writing this series

wc: 4.1k

warning(s): pretty severe angst bc this takes place after hurricane's death and goes up to mid tlt. death ideation, minor descriptions of injuries, luke isn't the best person, just a whole lot of sadness.

Luke returns to camp two weeks after your death, nothing more than a shell of himself.                      

Half of his time was spent sitting in an interrogation room in a Boston police station, mumbling his way through questions he doesn’t know how to answer. It’s not every day that a teenage girl is found nearly ripped apart in the middle of a city with her boyfriend completely broken next to her. Two EMTs had to literally drag him away from you��at least, that’s what they tell Luke. Everything after your heartbeat stopped is a blur for him. He doesn’t really even know how he got to the station.

And that’s how it is for a while. He talks to detectives who don’t believe him, he stares at the wall and wishes you were here, he goes home with your mom. She’s being asked just as many questions, and she refuses to leave him out on the street or take him back to camp. She doesn’t understand that Luke’s done it all before. 

Eventually, the officers settle on a freak animal attack. It didn’t make sense for an animal capable of doing that to be in the city, but mortals see what they want to see. Luke is just thankful to be out of it. 

But he doesn’t know what to do next. There’s a huge gaping hole in his chest and in his life without you, and he doesn’t know how to live without you. Every time Luke closes his eyes he sees your face, and he hasn’t been able to sleep through the night since it happened. He only really manages to stay out when his body practically shuts down from exhaustion. 

Your mom treats Luke like a second son while he’s living with her, and it pains him more than anything. She asks him if he wants to stay with her, try and finish out the semester. He was surprised she still wanted anything to do with him. 

Luke declined. He loved your mom, but being in that apartment without you—walking past your room and knowing you would never be there again, seeing a space you carved out for yourself knowing the most integral part was missing—was just too much for him. The full reality of you being gone still hadn’t sunk in yet. 

He’s soured on the city of Boston as a whole. He’s felt your blood on his hands since the moment it stained his fingers, and for as long as Luke lives he will never forget the look on your mother’s face when she showed up at the police station. 

Your mom offers to drive him back to camp, and though he wants to say no to that as well, he doesn’t. Luke can tell that she needs a distraction, and he doesn’t really know how else he’s gonna get back to camp. They don’t talk very much on the way there, but neither of them burst into tears, so he considers it a victory. 

She parks at the bottom of the hill and hugs him so tightly he can’t breathe, but he welcomes any kind of feeling. 

“Stay safe, Luke,” she says, her hands on his shoulders. “And if you ever need a place to stay—”

“I know,” he interrupts. “And I’ll try.”

She nods a few times, and she blinks back tears as she looks up at him. “Thank you for everything you did for my daughter. For all those years that you kept her safe.”

It clearly wasn’t enough, Luke wants to say. If it was, he wouldn’t have lost you back then, and he wouldn’t have lost you now. But that wouldn’t help anyone, so he nods. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, his throat still dry as a desert. 

“Always.”  

“I know how much you meant to each other,” she says softly. “I’m so sorry, Luke.” 

He holds back his emotions. “So am I.” 

Your mom nods again and they say their goodbyes once more, hugging one last time. When Luke reaches the top of the hill, he looks back to see her still standing there. He wishes he could do something to ease the pain, but he doesn’t even know how to deal with his own. 

Luke stops at Thalia’s tree, and he already feels that lump in his throat. 

“I hope you’re together in Elysium,” he murmurs. “I always thought you would like each other.” 

The beginnings of tears prick the back of his eyes and he clears his throat, shaking his head like it’ll help silence the millions of thoughts scattered around his brain. If Thalia lives on like this, he hopes your spirit is still around somewhere.

“I love you,” he says quietly. “And I’m sorry I failed both of you.”

Nobody at camp knows. How could they? 

Luke wasn’t expected back until the summer, though, so his presence at the top of the hill is telling in of itself. Especially alone. 

He ignores everyone that tries to talk to him and gets to the Big House to break the news to Chiron. Thankfully, when he dissolves into tears, it’s behind closed doors. Chiron takes it in a saddened stride, and Luke wonders how many heroes have died in his lifetime. 

You have no siblings to make a burial shroud, so the Athena cabin takes up the responsibility. Annabeth invites him to take part, but he can hardly stomach the thought. 

It’s beautiful. They emulate the ocean through embroidery and Annabeth even gets a little Red Sox patch in. They let Luke burn it, and he’s amazed he even makes it through the ceremony. But the entire camp shows up, and there isn’t a single dry eye. He hopes you at least know how many people care about you. 

Chris takes over as counselor for the indefinite future, which is probably a good thing when Luke can barely muster the strength to get out of bed most days. He picks at his food when he’s able to make it to meals, and his prayers to Hermes have never felt emptier. He used to do one for Poseidon every so often, especially when you were at school, but the thought makes him sick. His eyes never stop trailing over to Cabin Three’s table. 

The Poseidon cabin is empty again. 

Luke doesn’t fully realize the path he’s taken until he’s standing in the doorway and the scent of salty air hits him. He’s so used to hanging out with you after dinner that he just went there automatically. 

It feels unfinished. It is unfinished. You had a whole box of things back in Boston that you wanted to bring back to camp to decorate. 

Your posters still hang on the walls—Blondie, Pearl Jam, Alanis Morisette. Fairy lights are falling down in the corner, and they’re unplugged. Luke had to remind you to unplug them before you left for the school year. 

You should be standing next to him, smiling and laughing and dragging him in behind you as you rant about capture the flag or the canoe race you definitely didn’t cheat in. He blinks away the tears building in his eyes and he takes a step back. 

You should be here. You’re not. 

(How many more times is he going to end up here chasing ghosts?) 

There are some things a person just can’t get over. 

And that’s how his days go. He barely manages to get out of bed, picks at meals that taste like sand, musters what little strength he has to lead sword lessons, endures pitiful looks and sympathetic speeches. 

Luke gets lost in the past more than he should, oftentimes sitting on the beach talking to you as he watches the waves roll in or sneaking out to the dock in the middle of the night to be in the company of the only person he can stand. 

By the time summer comes back around, Luke is sure of three things. 

He isn’t ever going to be the same again. 

You should still be alive. 

He won’t rest until he’s torn Olympus down brick by brick. 

-

“It’s quiet here,” Luke said.

“That’s what happens when you don’t have any siblings,” you murmured. 

His eyes trailed over to the door and you nudged him with your shoulder. “What do you keep looking over there for? Scared someone’s gonna catch us?” 

He shrugged. “We’re technically not allowed to be in here together.” 

“They can’t say anything,” you said. “We’re both counselors. And no one’s in this place anyways. Besides,” you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips, “we’ve earned all the time in the world.” 

Luke smiled and snaked an arm around you, pulling you closer to him. “You think so?” 

“We lost two years together,” you said, laying your head on his chest. “Far as I’m concerned, no one can say a damn thing to us.” 

“It always feels like we talk about the past,” he said. “What about the future?” 

“All I know is I want you in it,” you mused. You always loved resting on his chest because you could hear his heartbeat, could feel the slight rise and fall from his breathing. It meant he was alive, and after what you’d been through, that was more valuable than anything. 

“Obviously,” Luke said coyly. “I want you in mine too. But what about the details?” 

“We gotta finish high school first,” you said. “Have you thought about what I said?” 

“...Yeah,” he nodded. “It’s just been a while since I’ve left camp. Going back to school seems rough for someone who hasn’t been in classes since elementary school.” 

You shook your head. “Which is exactly why my school would be perfect for you. We left at the same age, remember?” You took his hand and began to trace the lines of his palm. “It took some getting used to, but I made it. If I can, so can you—and I’ll help you every step of the way.” 

Luke chuckled softly. “I’m a little worried about leaving Annabeth.” 

“Annabeth of all people would support you going for your education,” you said. “And it’s not like she’ll be on her own—everyone likes her here.” 

“...Talk me through it,” Luke decided. “Say we both go back for the school year. What does a sophomore year for the two of us back in Boston look like?” 

“Well, we’d be living together. We have an extra room in our apartment, and I’m sure I can convince my mom to let you take it.” You let out a sigh as you shifted, moving closer into Luke’s side. “We’d take the T together to school, but you don’t have to worry because I can show you around everywhere.” 

He chuckled. "I could use a refresher on Boston. Don't have the fondest memories there."

"We'll just make some new ones," you promised. “I’m on the soccer team, too. I was JV this year, but I’m gonna make varsity next fall—mark my words.” 

Luke rubbed your shoulder as he hummed. “And I’d come to every game.” 

“You better.” You glanced up at him with a smile. “You could try out for something too. I think you’d make a killing in basketball.” 

He raised his eyebrows. “Do you not remember all those pick-up games we played when we were younger and bored? I was gods-awful.” 

“This’ll be different,” you insisted. “You’ll actually be sleeping on a bed every night, and eating consistently. I think that makes you a better athlete. Plus, you’re not three feet tall anymore.” 

Luke laughed as he intertwined your fingers together. “The star soccer player and the mediocre basketball player. We make quite a couple.” 

“You’d be better than mediocre,” you said. “Anyways—we’d play our sports and kill it, I’d introduce you to all the friends I made last year, I’d show you all around Boston, and I’d get you hooked on the Red Sox.” 

He leaned back against the headboard with a chuckle. “You’re really never gonna let this go, are you?” 

“It’s my sovereign duty to put you onto the Red Sox,” you said, “especially surrounded by all these Yankees. I’m gonna get you to a game one of these days. And after we kill sophomore year, we’ll kill junior and senior year.” You tapped on his chest for each year with your free hand, and his smile grew. “Then we’ll graduate high school together. With honors, and monster-free.” 

“You have such high standards,” Luke said wryly. “I’ve always thought I’d be lucky to pass with C’s.” 

“You haven’t always had me,” you mused. “And when we’re together, we can’t lose.” 

Luke smiled as he looked at your intertwined hands. “Y’know, I think your plan sounds pretty good. I’m pretty sure I could put up with school if it meant more time with you.” 

You leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips. Luke moved his hand to keep you there, and when you pulled away, a delicate blush painted his cheeks and pure love danced in his eyes. You couldn’t help but smile. 

You were the luckiest girl in the world. 

“Thank you,” you said. 

Luke offered a sideways grin. “For what?”

You shrugged. “For being you.”

“Thank you, then,” he said. 

“For what?” 

“For sticking with me,” Luke said. “Through everything.” 

“I wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else,” you murmured. 

-

The second year isn’t any easier. 

Luke is back to being year-round. There’s no point in going home—not when Connecticut hasn’t welcomed him in years. Not when he would just be another problem for your mother in the midst of her grief. 

So he stays at camp. Endures the pitiful looks from everyone, lies his way through attempted therapy with Chiron, trains more than ever before. No one seems to know how to treat him, because he goes from completely alone to swarmed with sympathy to completely alone again. It takes two months before his friends are acting like he’s a normal person again, and even then it still feels like they’re walking on glass. 

Luke can’t find enough inside of him to care. 

He practices with his sword until he feels like his arms might fall off, only narrowly avoiding the harpies each night. His siblings ask how he does it, why he does it, and he just says he wants to get better. 

But Luke refuses to let it happen again—not when his surrogate sister is all he has left. Not when he sees you every time he closes his eyes. 

His birthday comes and goes, but seventeen is empty without you. He replays your past conversations in his head, about traveling together and graduating together and maybe even going to college together. Demigods aren’t meant to think about the future, but he dared to dream with you. 

And the worst part was that you were right. You made varsity. You were in the middle of killing sophomore year, despite Luke struggling his way through with C’s and the occasional D—you had always been smarter than him. You got him out to a Red Sox game, and gods forbid, he actually enjoyed it. 

You were living the life you deserved, a life of happiness and success and with Luke, and you didn’t even make it past sophomore year. You were meant for so much more, and every day he questions why it was taken from you. Every day, he questions why you’re gone and he’s not. 

The year chugs on in all its misery, and for the first time since he all but rejected him as his son, Hermes appears to Luke. 

His father gives him a quest, and he takes it despite the inherent insult of it. Maybe some part of him hopes he’ll die out there and finally get to see you again. 

(Another part wonders if he’s even worth Elysium. Luke lost you once, then he lost Thalia, and now he’s lost you again. Some kind of hero he is.) 

He goes it alone. It takes him back to the first couple of months before he met you, and when the thought hits him, it almost overwhelms him. Everything makes Luke think of you, but it makes sense. He’s only living half a life—he’s missing the other half of his soul. 

Luke fails his quest. He manages to get a claw and he manages to nearly lose an eye. There’s no glory in a repeated quest, but there might be even less glory in this. 

And once more, Luke staggers back to camp as a victim rather than a hero. Someone only worthy of pity, someone so weak that Chiron bans quests unless they’re absolutely necessary. It takes weeks for the scars on his body to heal, and the mark on his face even longer. He becomes well-acquainted with the cycle of Apollo kids that take shifts in the infirmary.  

He feels nothing but disgust every time he looks in the mirror. After all, the claw marks ripping their way through his body match yours. Sometimes he wishes Ladon finished the job. 

It doesn’t make sense why, after everything, he’s still here. 

Luke can hardly stand to be at camp, but he’s got nowhere else to go. He gets better at hiding his emotions, better at acting like he’s gotten through it. New demigods show up and he’s not the bereaved counselor anymore—he’s not introduced with his grief. He hides it away.  

No one wants to deal with all the problems he’s racked up. His mom, his dad, Thalia, you.    He’s a demigod. Demigods are resilient. So he plays the part—he’s been through a lot, but he’s past it. He promises he’s not a burden anymore. He’s just a normal kid. 

And for a while, Luke is almost able to believe it himself. He’s never going to be over you, but he starts feeling like a person again rather than a ghost of one. He’s fully taken over the mantle of counselor again, and he’s actually present during sword-fighting lessons. He even manages to get a six-month-long capture the flag winning streak going on. 

And then Kronos appears in his dreams. 

Luke knows Greek mythology. It’s hard not to pick up a couple things when you’re fighting stuff from the history books, but they teach some lessons at camp. It’s nice to know what you’re up against before you die a brutal death. 

Kronos killed his father. He ate his children. Every wicked deed was done for power, and power is what he offers Luke. 

And maybe there’s something wrong with him, because it’s the first time he’s felt hope since he left Boston. 

Luke finally has an answer to something. He’s been silently cursing the gods for years, trying to figure out a way to tear everything down without getting himself immediately killed, and he’s got one. 

Kronos speaks to him most nights. He remembers the dreams you shared with him in your final year, all the restless hours spent sitting together on the fire escape as he soothed you. You thought Kronos was the reason for it, but he couldn’t have been. His dreams were nothing like yours. 

But still, Luke wonders every day what you would say if you were here, if you knew the treacherous path he’d embarked on. Kronos promised power, freedom, an end to Olympus and the reign of the gods. 

He doesn’t care about power. He just wants to hold you again. He wants to hear your laugh again. He wants to see your smile in more than pictures. 

But he can’t. And he wants to destroy everyone responsible for it. 

So he does everything the Titan Lord asks of him. He hones his skills even further, he lays low, and when the time is right, he steals Zeus’s bolt and Hades’ helm. Luke even nearly beats Ares when he’s caught, but Kronos doesn’t lead him astray—he speaks of divine war, and he gets out of it. 

He continues to see you. Kronos doesn’t lead him astray, but he punishes him for such a close call. Luke wakes in the middle of the night, eyes wide and chest heaving with labored breaths, and he feels your blood on his hands all over again. He sees you die over and over again and he can do nothing to stop it.  

You always told each other about your nightmares. 

That’s the hardest part of it all. You’ve always been so closely intertwined with Luke’s life since the moment he saved you in that aquarium years ago, and he can’t see any way to let go of you. He can’t—even though you’re gone, you’re still a part of him. His first instinct in any situation is to tell you, and it kills him that he can’t. 

And maybe things would have turned out different for Luke if you were still around. He’s never going to forgive himself for your death, and he’s certainly never going to forgive the gods. Thalia pushed him to the edge, but you were the breaking point. Luke is only nineteen and he’s loved and lost more than most.

Maybe things would be different if you were here. But you’re not, and they aren’t. So when a new demigod shows up, covered in monster dust and nearly dead on camp’s doorstep with Grover in tow, Luke doesn’t hesitate. 

He killed the Minotaur, and his mom is dead. Skilled enough to take on a quest, desperate enough to ignore a couple warning signs. Percy Jackson is the boy Kronos told him about. 

So Luke takes him under his wing. Shows him around camp, welcomes him to the Hermes cabin, trains with him one-on-one. 

Something about his spirit reminds him of you. It’s the grit, he thinks. The determination. The refusal to back down even when it’s the smartest option. When he asks about you that night in the Hermes cabin, Luke’s heart stutters. The kid is too sharp for his liking. 

It doesn’t take long before Luke manages to cement himself as one of his friends, maybe only third to Annabeth and Grover. He’s a lost kid that’s been thrust into a world he doesn’t understand, and Luke is the closest thing to a rock most campers have got. 

It’s supposed to just be a guise, but sometimes, he forgets himself. He likes Percy too much—he just feels too much like a younger brother, and that’s not really good for the already growing guilt in his chest. 

Maybe it’s because Luke sees himself in Percy. Someone playing a part he’s not aware of, an unfortunate pawn with no choice in the matter. Luke tries to push it away. Kronos wouldn’t lead him astray—this was the path he had to take if he wanted anything to change. 

But it’s not like that makes it easier. Because gods, Percy has never looked more like a kid than when he’s suited up in armor for capture the flag. It almost makes Luke regret the plan he has to enact. 

Almost. 

Annabeth has a plan as usual, and thankfully Percy plays the part of bait. Luke tunes out of everything else and lets his battle senses take over—things have already been set into play, and now all Luke can do is hide in plain sight. Soon enough he’s got the red team’s flag past the boundary line, and he’s hoisted up onto his teammates shoulders. Luke is almost able to forget what he’s done. 

…Almost. 

A howl rips through the forest, and the hellhound Luke summoned after the start of the game launches itself at Percy. He’s on the ground before he knows it, the flag forgotten in his hand as he rushes over with the rest of the campers. 

For some ungodly reason, Annabeth tries to step in front of him, but she’s thankfully too slow. The monster swipes at Percy and its claws shred through his armor. For a split second, Luke is back in Boston and his chest stills.

Chiron solves the problem with a cluster of arrows, but the camp is in immediate disarray. Clarisse instantly accuses Percy, Annabeth is trying to make sure Percy doesn’t die, and Luke just hopes his shock is believable enough to hide his annoyance. He’s just a scrawny kid—how the hell is he still alive? But then the unthinkable happens.

Annabeth tells Percy to step back in the lake. The instant he’s in the water, what should have been a fatal wound starts to heal. 

And then a glowing blue trident appears above Percy Jackson’s head. 

Luke feels sick as he lowers himself to one knee with the rest of camp. As the hellhound he summoned melts into the shadows, as he stares at the sacrificial lamb of a demigod meant to unknowingly enact his plan. 

“Poseidon,” Chiron says. “Earthshaker, Stormbringer, Father of Horses. Hail, Perseus Jackson, Son of the Sea God.”

Your brother. 

[katasstrophy]

STAY—

cw. spoilers for tokyo rev manga ending. mikey x gn! reader. angst w/ happy ending. swearing + bit suggestive at the end. i’m oh so in my feels about him, my forever man <3

currently sobbing over the thought of you finding manjiro in every single timeline – except for the last, true one.

you find him, always, when the worst has already befallen him and he’s haunted by it, knee-deep in the gore of his own inky dark, impulsive thoughts that suck him in like a chasm, the self-promised responsibility of keeping everyone that’s still alive and precious to him out of harm’s way weighing his entire skeleton down. a shadow of a man, he is, the beginning of something truly monstrous, when you find him. and yet, you don’t shy away. you do something even worse, what he thought unthinkable – you stay.

he is not kind to you. far from it, however much his behaviour shames him and coats the walls of his stomach sticky with guilt. he lashes out at you, calls you cruel words he doesn’t take back even though he never means them. he pushes, and pushes, and pushes you away where he thinks he can finally keep you out beyond the electric wire wrapped around his heart – both to protect himself and to make him bleed. he makes you cry – your tears a waterfall of genuine hurt, carving their path over and over on your reddened cheeks. and yet, you’re stubborn, and you stay. you tell him he’s a fucking asshole for upsetting you, that he was never popular with girls, was he? that what he’s doing is not okay, and for all the life of you, you’ll probably never fully understand what he went through, but you know he’s hurt beyond words. you tell him you feel it, his suffering, so very obviously from just a single look into those dead fish eyes of his – what colour even are they? – so he can be a pissy little baby about it, but you’ve planted your fucking feet and you fear they’ve already taken root so he might as well make his peace with your presence, because you’re not going anywhere.

you linger. you flutter about, like some otherworldly, soothing-balm butterfly. you follow, even though he hasn’t had the desire to go anywhere for a long, long time. you stay, and suddenly it’s a little easier to breathe. he breathes, takes huge gulps of air into his lungs in what feels like ages, and tastes the salt of the breeze nipping at the tip of his tongue. suddenly, he can stomach looking at a sunrise again without wanting to crush something under his palm. an emptiness still clangs inside of him like a great gong that, even if you wanted to fill, you’d be unable to. but even those wounds have dulled from an ache to a throb, because now there’s you – a great, roaring, raging fire. you, who doesn’t give him the luxury of taking his hand, but instead beckon and beckon until he grits his teeth rising from his knees to his feet to reach for and accept your warmth. now, it’s not so dark anymore. now, there are some good days in between the bad and the really bad ones. sometimes, he even smiles. rarely, he laughs, rusty like an old faucet, smoky like a burning house, a weak imitation of his past joy. but still, he laughs, and you’re there to hear it and grin back.

mikey wishes your murmured words and soft caresses against the hard planes of his skin could have cured the unfixable black hole festering in his soul. he wishes your kisses could have sucked out the uncontrollable evil within him, swallow it whole and breathe it out as carbon dioxide, as harmless, used-up, recycled air, because he’s convinced you’re an angel with a touch that turns everything – both splendid and foul – golden. you’re an angel that was meant to show him there’s still good in the world, maybe even in him, but you were never meant to save him. fate’s cruel like that. he was always meant to be saved by another, for everything to come full circle, but he wishes all the same it could have been you.

when takemichi tells him everything – the time leaping and the curse on him – when he goes through another awful, roach-like existence and learns of sinichiro’s sacrifice, the catalyst of everything; when he finally gets the chance to make and do it right with all the knowledge of how to, when he’s grown up and successful with all his friends flushed with health and happy by his side – he remembers you. he finally, finally remembers you. how you met him, always, when he was drowning, and stayed and made him want to thrash and wade to the surface so he could share the same breath as you. he cries – the waterfall of his tears carving a path into his cheeks, at what you did for him, over and over again. the life you offered instead of the plain drifting he was stuck in. and manjiro decides you’ve fought enough. you’ve done more than enough.

so this time, he finds you.

he searches, picks apart the whole city, until he finds you. you don’t remember him, but that’s okay, because he remembers you, and he’s not going anywhere. you’re still so lovely, so golden, appreciative of his advances even though he knows he must come off as strong so early, but you laugh and tell him you find it refreshing. charming, if not a little confusing. and he laughs back this time, fizzy like a bubble bath and rumbling like a fireplace. mikey tells you he wants to stay, with you, so earnestly it strikes you that you might know him, after all. you don’t tell him that, of course, because it’s a bit silly of you, isn’t it?

(you tell him – ask him – later, when he’s been yours for years, when he’s put a ring on your finger and you took his last name. you ask him, after both of your breathings have calmed from a night of pleasurable tangling in the sheets. you ask him, enamoured and so, so in love with him, if he believes in past lives, because you’re so sure of it that he was meant for you. and your husband merely smiles like he’s privy to all the knowledge in the world. he kisses your knuckles sunlight-soft and tells you you were destined for each other from the very start. it leaves a gasp frozen in your throat and a thrill skittering down your spine that makes you want to ravish him once more.)

but that comes later. for now, it’s still a little silly, no matter how adamant this handsome man seems about courting you. so you smile and dip your chin in a bashful nod and say that you’d very much like for him to stay. so manjiro does. he stays by your side and lives the life he was always meant to, with you.

[thoughtblown]

There is so much negativity emanating from one place, it’s insane. It’s suffocating, if your thoughts don’t match what some of them believe reality to be, then in their mind they think you’re hurting a person they deeply care for, in this case Nicola. I am a huge fan of Nic, her story helped me climb out a dark hole, her positivity and bright smile, shined a light on my hopes and dreams (I can be a little dramatic lol), she reminded me that its never too late to pursue the career of your dreams and to never give up, “ sometimes you just have to let your inner drag queen out, push your insecurities a side a little bit, and just do it.” -NC . Although I hold her high on a pedestal and I’m also a little delusional I understand actuality. I may be on the tip of my toes sometimes but I remember that I don’t know her and there’s no confirmation of anything so I accept that the possibilities are endless and that some of those alternative realities may hurt if they are confirmed, but she is human and she lives her own life and makes her own decisions, therefore I plant my feet back on the ground again and remain positive. I know what I hope for and I know what my delusional side believes right now but I’m aware that I may be wrong. Saying that Nic and Jake are a couple because she hangs out with him and they’ve been spotted together on multiple occasions doesn’t mean you’re being realistic, TO ME, it sounds like you’re so deep up their butt that you want to agree, applaud, praise everything you think is true about them. A picture is worth a million words, but the truth behind those pictures only a very few know and I doubt that’s any of us. Reality, in my words and point of view, is whatever you want to believe because that’s your reality, that’s the world you created in your head, that’s what you see and that’s what you perceive, they are not facts because there is no ACTUAL proof. The “proof” mentioned hasn’t been revealed or proven that it exists so in our reality there’s nothing that confirms anything therefore we are entitled to believe what we want and no one should mock us for it and suggest we are harming and being disrespectful because we are basing our theories from what we see. This is Reality! ( my opinion)

P.S

Not to self :

Reality means: "Believing what you're seeing" means accepting something as true simply because you are visually witnessing it, essentially implying that seeing something with your own eyes is enough to convince you of its reality….” - google

Stating your reality as a fact is called "asserting your perspective as absolute truth" - google

Actuality means: “actual existence, typically as contrasted with what was intended, expected, or believed. ”the building looked as impressive in actuality as it did in magazines" -google

[wishingicouldfly]

Why I Believe Larry Is Real

It’s been a long time since I’ve done one of my opinion essays. This week I was asked to justify my belief that Larry is real, and that Harry and Louis are together. It feels like it’s time. 

::cracks knuckles::

I’ve thought about how to reply to the demand, which came from someone on X (formerly Twitter). I cannot compel someone who isn’t inclined to believe in Larry to suddenly change their mind. If someone doesn’t want to interpret the signs the same way I do, that’s their prerogative. But that said, I decided to give some thought about how to answer the question. 

I’ve been inspired by IndiaAlphaWhiskey and her recent reply to a similar question. I loved the way she answered by talking about long term love and how it’s steady and doesn't need to have a lot of fireworks visible from the outside. It’s hard to put that into words that make sense to someone who hasn’t witnessed it. Here’s her original reply:

The reality is we do not have solid proof that they were or - as I believe - still are in a relationship. Nor should we. H&L are closeted celebrities who keep their private life private. They are closeted, so you won’t see them admitting to being in a relationship in interviews; that would defeat the point of being closeted. In fact, you may think you’ve heard them outright deny being together. Again, if you’re not looking at the clues, and you only want to take this at face value, you’re not going to see any other possible narrative. Full stop. If that’s the case, you’re not going to agree with me, and that’s fine.

If you really want to go down a rabbit hole, my friend @bkatie617 keeps a running spreadsheet on perceived coincidences in the current era. 

https://x.com/BKatie617/status/1739715223244742755?s=20

I can list out a hundred things that, to me, are coded messages H&L have signaled to either us or to each other. You can debunk/deny/laugh-out-loud at all of them, if you want. You might call something coincidence or debunk one or more of these pieces. And yes, there are things out there that aren’t true, that are completely coincidence or debatable – or wildly unbelievable.

I get that. In fact, I have a whole thread of debunks on my Twitter bio. My debunk thread focuses on factual, hard-proof debunks to help veterans and newcomers keep the story straight.

https://x.com/Rosann_1986/status/1670101749267406848?s=20

But there are a hundred more things that are real. Or at least open to interpretation. At some point, it becomes really, really unlikely that everything is a coincidence over the last decade, and you have to admit that H&L are in collaboration with their messaging. For me, once you admit they are in collaboration in their messaging, it doesn’t take a huge leap to believe they are together romantically. Why else would their teams coordinate messaging to the media and the masses?

Harry even said, in 2022, “There’s not many [clues and tidbits] that get left behind. Most of the time, they usually pick up on pretty much everything, along with a couple of hilarious coincidences that were never meant to be, never meant to be kind of clues in the first place that happen… end up being clues.”

Source: Harry Styles talks to the Morning Mash Up about his new single, 'As It Was', Coachella, and more (siriusxm.ca)

You don’t have to believe any of it. I’m fine with that. But because you don’t believe it, doesn’t mean I’m not completely, unwavering, solidly adamant in my own belief that it’s real. Especially if you’re not providing any evidence to sway my beliefs.

Here’s what I think: I think Harry and Louis met and fell in love during X-Factor in 2010, began dating, and continued to fall while on the X-Factor tour and the recording of the first single and album. I believe they made it official in 2011. Over the years, they went through hard times through career changes, loss of family members, solo career ups and downs, differences in career trajectory, doubts and fears, and then the pandemic. I believe they weathered all that and are together and committed to this day. 

I think they live a private life and have no intention of coming out or going public any time soon. Harry said to Rolling Stone last year that he hasn’t publicly “been with anyone.” I also think, even though they are determined to stay private, they like the idea of some fans knowing and supporting them. Seeing their true, authentic selves. So, they’ve gotten good at messaging their truth to fans who want to see it and support it. 

Due to industry pressure and 'image' clauses in their contract, I think they were encouraged by record execs and management to keep their relationship quiet, but rebelled (as teenagers, young adults, and fools in love will do) by insinuating double meanings in interviews and signaling to those in the know ever since. 

I think the signaling started in One Direction days when fans began to pick up on the signs they gave each other - the secret looks, the thumbs up, their complementary tattoos. 

When they saw fans remaining loyal, despite the idea they might be gay/queer and together, the signals turned more outward and louder, with Harry’s blue bandana, lyrics, the rainbow bears, and more. I think it continues today with graphic t-shirts, even more lyrics, matching merch, intentional mirroring in stage lighting and costumes, and more. 

Evidence Larry are together Now

Understand that there’s no solid “proof” that H&L are together now. So, if that’s what you’re here looking for, you won’t find it. They are closeted still, both portraying a heterosexual narrative in the media.

My lens (admittedly biased) is that they are together and hint to us, but that most of what they do these days is for each other. Little inside jokes from across the world or across the room to show they are together. Despite them being separated for work a lot, I believe these little nods to each other helps keep their connection healthy and strong across the time apart.

What follows is a small sampling of what I think is intentional messaging from H&L, meant to suggest to those following that they are still together. Nothing is a proof. Nothing by itself is anything more than coincidence. But taken together, these along with other examples, show two men who are speaking through their actions, in my humble opinion.

They have strikingly similar patterns in their merch for FITF and HSLOT. 

Harry’s merch looks like it would be comfortable at Louis’ show.

Harry drew H and L on his trainers on May 10, 2022 on a pap walk in Italy. 

Both Harry and Louis used some of the same songs for their pre- and post-show playlists. https://www.tumblr.com/bluewinnerangel/702446259292831744/do-you-see-any-commonalities-between-harry-and

They both had really intentional blue/green stage lights at their shows. For anyone who doesn’t know, blue and green were their respective assigned colors when they were in One Direction. Certainly not a proof on its own but coupled with other things adds to the intentionality.

Complementary stage outfits. See this whole thread by @grete418 on X. It’s tongue in cheek, but it demonstrates what I mean about outfits matching/complementing each other. https://twitter.com/Grete418/status/1536453046611369989

Harry dressed as Danny Zuko at Harryween 2022 (coincidentally, Louis’ one and only lead role in a high school musical). https://twitter.com/UpdateHLD/status/1587297649572585473

Louis namechecked his unreleased song “All Along” in September 2022 (here at about 5:20), which strongly references Harry and a concert they attended together.. https://youtu.be/D9NjoMuz5-s?si=eRB-FwLI9JveMK3N

Louis wearing his 'dancing man' top when the 'dancing Harry' figure is so well known.

Similar visual themes like this. Same assignment, different execution. (Harry’s House/Silver Tongues):

Louis’ new tattoos (2023) appear to be images already seen on Harry’s journal cover and eye motif from HSLOT, plus they add to the existing traditional nautical motif they share. 

T-shirt in Music Video for Music for a Sushi Restaurant reading LT Seniors. 

Louis used fan images of Harry’s tattoos as Spotify cover art in February 2021.

Lyrics that seem to respond to each other, and/or have similar themes

Louis wears a rose (like Harry’s tattoo) on his shirt on 6/26/23…next night Harry wears a very phallic shaped rocket ship that looks a lot like Louis’ dagger tattoo. Seems like a call and response.

Louis singing 7 by Catfish and the Bottlemen, on both his tours. The song begins, “Larry call a load of smoke in…”

Added: (5/29/24). Louis announces his "For Every Question Why" Live Stream event via Veeps on 5/27/24. Two days later (5/29/24), Harry turns up in Florence, Italy, wearing an Elmo shirt with the word "Why?" via Twitter: (1) Ali ~So Be It! on X: "Just leaving this here. https://t.co/Mdty8DRLDE" / X

So there you have it. I could obviously go on for quite a bit, with many more examples, but I think this is a pretty good sampling. If you’d like to know more, or talk about it, feel free to DM me here or on X (@Rosann_1986). I don’t do this to try to change anyone’s mind. If you don’t believe they are doing these things intentionally, and aren’t curious or approaching this with an open mind, nothing I say will change that for you. 

If you’re new here and you’d like to learn more, there are a lot of places to find master posts. Understand that you have to take everything with a grain of salt and come to your own conclusions. Here are a few places to start:

(2) Be a lover. Give love. Choose love. on Tumblr

It’s a beautiful war 🌈 (tumblr.com)

Great lyric analysis here: it's subjective - My song analyses Last edited December 22nd 2022,... (tumblr.com)

[simplydannie]

Velvet and Veneer One-Shot

“Prison It Is”

Velvet and Veneer are sent to prison after the events of the Rage Dome show…. Moments after their encounter with the Trolls… Moments after Veneer admits their frauds. Veneer begins to notice something in Velvet…the raging person in front of him isn’t his sister….Using the Troll changed her… and she doesn’t know it herself

They took each of their fingerprints.

Velvet and Veneer then changed out their Rage Dome attire and into orange clothing: RAGEOUS DETENTION CENTER, it read in huge letters on the back. Their shoulders pads were taken in for examination… the technology was impressive. They began questioning them on who did it and why….Veneer lied…

“It was our assistant…” He looked at Velvet who had a distant look in her eyes, “….. I convinced her to make it. I said it was for smoothies. If she knew what I really wanted it for she’d never make it… Crimp isn’t like that. She’s a good person.”

“Funny. I’d never imagine you as the master mind behind this.” The security guard as he took the shoulder pads away.

The thing is… he wasn’t, and neither was his sister. They were both pawns in someone’s games. They had no proof about it though… they never saw the person… this person left NO footprints. He and his sister were the ones to get caught… and now here they are.

They were guided to the room they would share during their time there…. It hasn’t been decided how long. Veneer sighed in relief once he saw he’d be rooming with his sister… he didn’t want to think of what meat head he could’ve been paired with. The guards closed the door, leaving the siblings alone.

“Vels..” Veneer called out. She stood at the corner of the room, staring lifelessly at the wall. “Vels, please say something.” Moments of silence passed before she spoke.

“…..You ruined…. Everything.” She finally said, finally looking at him in the eye. “We had everything, and now it’s gone!”

“What we had wasn’t even real! We didn’t earn it Vels! WE. WERE. KILLING. A PERSON!” He exclaimed back.

“It was just a stupid Troll!”she yelled…. This wasn’t his sister. Something changed… and he didn’t like it.

“Yeah! Well…Look what using the Troll did to you! It poisoned you Vels! The sister I grew up with would never say or do the things you did!” He yelled back.

“Stop being ridiculous!” Velvet began pacing up and down the room. Anxiety and rage growing inside of her. She began twisting and fiddling with her long ponytail, mumbling things under her breath.

Veneer grew afraid. He needed to help her… whatever the Trolls essences did… it changed her. This wasn’t Velvet. He knew the real Velvet, and this madness in front of him wasn’t it. He had to choose his words carefully.

“I’ll figure out a way to help you sis. I’ll write a letter to Trolls or something… maybe they know. We’ll get you better, do our time, and get out of this hell hole. Then we’ll find the REAL masterminds behind this. Clear our names!” He exclaimed hopefully.

“We have nothing Veneer!” She yelled.

“Yeah we do! Mom and Dad left us that inheritance. We’ll see it once you get of age. For now we work, the right way…yeah, we’ll have to go with our evil aunt again who…” His thoughts trailed off. Things suddenly started making sense: inheritance, evil aunt, the inheritance going to Velvet since she’s the oldest, “…. Oh crap….” He murmured. His thoughts were interrupted by Velvets sudden outburst.

“Inheritance!? What the heck is left of it! Mom and Dad spent their entire life savings on YOU! Everything was fine until YOU were born. You had to get sick! All our money wasted because mom and dad couldn’t see their precious baby boy sick and die!” The anger began growing inside Velvet…. Her eyes beginning to glow pink….Oh, no, not again, he thought.

“You…you don’t mean that…I know you don’t..” He said. He knew she didn’t, but tears began filling his eyes anyways…. This wasn’t his sister talking.

“YOU ruined everything in my life Veneer! I HATE YOU!” She went for his throat.

Velvet closed her hands firmly around his throat, slowly but surely cutting the air entering his body.

“Velvet stop!” Veneer desperately tried tearing her hands away from him. As he did, her grasp grew tighter around his neck. “You’re hurting me!!”

…Upon hearing his cry, she stopped. She loosened her grip and got off her brother. Veneer inhaled deeply and started coughing.

“I’m…. I’m sorry.” She said. She curled herself in a tight ball, hugging her knees…. The pink hue fading from her eyes. How could she do that? She hurt her little brother.

“It’s okay.” He said in between breaths. He walked over to his sister, holding her in an embrace as he saw how terrified she was. He was determined to help her get rid of this “troll poison”. He just needed to know where to start. “I’ll figure it out Vels.” He said softly.

So much ran through Velvets mind. She knew he wanted to help her, but she still blamed him. Why did he have to be so noble? She pushed him away, releasing herself from his embrace. He eyed her quizzically. She could hear him call her name, but the anger began coming back… and so did the pink hue around her eyes. Again she began pacing back and forth murmuring to herself. She could hear Veneer attempt to sooth her, comfort her… but his words were just mumbles.

“I HATE YOU!” She grabbed the nearest thing she could find. She swung at Veneer, striking him across the face, leaving him a deep gash on his cheek. He cried in pain, falling to the floor. She then jumped on top of him…. She began to hit him. Blow after blow on his face. “I HATE YOU!”

She could hear him begging her to stop, that this wasn’t her…. But she couldn’t stop… her anger and desire in full control. She glared at him with pink eyes as she continued to beat him…. Then there was silence. Velvet slowly began coming back. When she did, she looked down at her brother…..Blood all over his face, his eyes halfway open.

“Veneer?” She said. A guard ran in…. That’s when she blacked out.

She jolted herself awake. Velvet looked around to find herself in a sort of medical room. She attempted to move… restraints on her arms and legs.

“What the….” She began to say. She heard a noise from the corner. She turned to find an adult Rageoun…. A doctor….She reminded her of their mom.

“Sorry sweetheart. Didn’t mean to startle you. How are you feeling?” The doctor asked.

“Why am I here? Where’s Veneer?” She asked trying to break herself free.

“Sweety do you remember anything that happened?” The doctor asked with concern in her eyes.

“I remember…. I was feeling sad… then Veneer came to hug me. Telling me he’d figure it out…” Velvet replied.

“Figure what out?” The doctor asked.

“Where is he? Where’s Veneer?” She asked again. The doctor looked at her with sad eyes.

“Sweety… You… you really don’t remember?” The doctor is hesitant. Velvet began shaking nervously.

“No…no…no where’s Veneer? Please what did I do? What did I do to my little brother!” She screamed… tears running down her face.

[jimin-jungshook-over-literalbae]

Blinding Lights Chapter Four

Hey guys, sorry about my impromptu break. The whole thing about Moonbin broke me. I had to step away for a bit. I didn’t want to write. Astro has always been my comfort group so I was struggling. I’m excited to get back into writing though. I hope you guys enjoy the new installment and thanks for all of the positive feedback!

Hybrids: Munchkin Cat Reader (Omega), Fox Jin (Omega), Panther Yoongi (Alpha), Golden Retriever Hoseok (Beta), Wolf Namjoon (Alpha), Calico Cat Jimin (Omega), Tiger Taehyung (Beta), Bunny Jungkook (Beta)

Masterlist

Word Count: 3534

Description: Y/N has spent the past seven years trapped in a hole in the floor. Forced in horrible situations she wished nothing more than to escape. When escape presents itself in the form of a group of seven hybrids, surely she must have finally snapped. Now, she has to figure out how a normal life works after being trapped in perpetual hell with her suddenly appearing mates.

Previous Chapter, Next Chapter

Waking up sandwiched between Yoongi and Hoseok is warm and comfortable. Hoseok has flipped onto his back, I’m curled into his side and Yoongi is wrapped around my back. My cheek rests on Hoseok’s chest. Hoseok’s hand comes up to rest on my head, his fingers combing through my hair.

“Good Morning,” I whisper softly, glancing up at him.

“Good Morning, Sweet Girl,” His lips whisper across my hair.

We lay together for a while, whispering back and forth so we don’t wake Yoongi. He tells me stories of his time with the boys, some funny, some much less so. It helps me learn a lot about some of the other boys, specifically Namjoon and Jin, who I had spent the least amount of time with. They both seem to be rather busy, most of the time.

“So, Taehyung has a job? Like, how Jin has his own job? Where it isn’t involved in whatever it is you guys do?” I give him a perplexed look. He chuckles at my expression.

“Yeah. He works at an Art Museum. He does tours and sometimes, they let him display and sell his own pieces. That’s why he has an art studio. He goes through spurts of creating and he hasn’t been sleeping much because of it. He’s working hard,” His finger dances across my cheek, his touch soft and light.

“Hmm. That’s cool. It suits him. He is kind of like that hermit artist boyfriend that no one quit sure exists until they perceive him,” Yoongi’s arms tighten around me, his lips whispering against my neck.

“That was a lot of big words for this early in the morning,” Yoongi’s sleepy voice brushes along my neck, sending shivers down my spine as he noses my scent gland. A knock at the door interrupts the moment.

“Time to get up, babies. The cleaning crew is going to be here soon so we need to get breakfast in us. Jin just called out and got some take out so clean up will be easy,” Namjoon’s head sticks in the cracked door,” Is Tae with you guys?”

“No, just us three in here last night,” Hoseok gives him a confused look. Something about the question makes me uneasy.

“I’ll look for him. You guys go eat. I’m not really hungry yet,” I untangle myself from the boys and give Hoseok a quick kiss on the cheek, followed by a quick peck to Yoongi. I try not to get self conscious that all eyes are on me. I hop up and make my way to the door.

“Are you sure?” Namjoon’s words are worried as he opens the door further to let me out.

“Yeah. I don’t know if I can be down there right now. I’d rather look for Tae,” I pat his arm as I slip past. The first place I look is his art studio. When I open the door, I can’t help but gasp.

Smashed canvases litter the floor, some with various paintings on them. The pottery wheels we had used are over turned and crushed. A glance to the right shows a trashed supplies closet, various paints and clay and paint brushes decorate the floor, creating a huge mess. In the middle of the room, Taehyung kneels on the floor, his hands pressed to the floor and silent sobs racking through his body. His lips press together in an attempt to silence them.

“Oh, baby,” I approach him cautiously in case he doesn’t want me near, kneeling in front of him and wiping the tears from his face.

“They’re ruined,” His voice is broken and small, choked by tears,” My whole exhibition is ruined. They were going to let me have my own temporary installment but all of my work is gone.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” My fingers furiously wipe away every tear that falls. Tae’s cool scent is almost nonexistent, a ashy smell instead permeating the air. I run my fingers through his hair and pull him closer, wrapping my arms around him. His face buries in my neck as he unleashes his sobs,” I won’t tell you it’s going to be okay. I don’t know if there will ever be a time you’re okay with it. But I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. Use me to hide until you feel like you’ll be okay.”

With some maneuvering, his face never leaving my neck, Taehyung sits cross legged on the floor with me in his lap. I hum quietly, running my fingers through his hair and just holding him. It’s only when his sobs begin to slow that the door bursts open. Jimin comes barreling through the door, a bag in his hand. His eyes widen when he realizes that Taehyung is crying and he drops the bag, his cinnamon apple scent wafting through the air.

“Tae-“ Jimin seems lost for words as he takes in the destruction. He sits behind Taehyung, wrapping his arms around him, his face nestled between Tae’s shoulder blades. Taehyung leans back into him, his sobs finally lessening into small whimpers. We remain silent as his head grows heavier and heavier on my shoulder. When his breathing evens out, that’s when I realize that he has fallen asleep.

“Jimin, you were supposed to be up here making sure they ate,” Hoseok’s tone is a joking scold as he steps into the room,” Aweeee, look at our cute little Omegas taking care of our Beta.”

Hoseok ruffles Jimin and I’s hair, causing me to blush. He reaches between the two of us and lifts Taehyung surprisingly easily. Namjoon hands me the forgotten bag on the floor, the food probably long cold. I eat a little bit but I wasn’t lying when I said I wasn’t hungry. Flashes of yesterday still flash through my mind. Holding Tae is the only time that I couldn’t feel that moment overwhelming me. It seems that being in my mate’s arms calms my still panicked Omega. She keeps thinking that our mates will begin to hate us, that Tae will begin to hate us because it’s our fault his studio was trashed.

“You should eat a little more, baby girl. The cleaners are gonna be here soon. It’s gonna be a long day,” Namjoon sits on the floor beside me, taking the partially eaten breakfast sandwich from my hand and holding it up to my mouth. Something about our Alpha feeding us has my Omega purring. I eat a few more bites before gently pushing his wrist away.

“I don’t wanna get sick,” I gnaw on my bottom lip, my hands falling in my lap,” Do you think Tae will be mad at me?”

“What do you mean?” His eyebrows furrow in confusion. I quickly look down at my hands, my thumbs twisting together.

“It’s my fault his studio was trashed,” My voice is small,” They were looking for me. Maybe if-“

“Hey,” His fingers close around my chin, bringing my eyes up to his,” Get out of that head of yours. No one is mad. This isn’t your fault. None of this is. You didn’t trash his studio. I would much rather have a trashed house and you still here and breathing than a clean house and no you. Tae would feel the same.”

“We all do,” Jungkook pipes up. I jump a little, not realizing he was there,” The cleaners are here. We should vacate the room for now. Did we decide what we were gonna do for the day?”

“I hadn’t gotten that far. We thought you might like to go out with us for the day. Maybe have a little date,” Namjoon’s dimpled smile eases some of my tension at the idea,” Hoseok should have Tae ready to leave soon. He’s going to need a distraction for the day, anyway.”

“So, shopping at the big mall then? And the art supply store so he we can get him anything he needs to restock?” Jungkook pulls out his phone,” Is there anywhere else we need to go? Everyone’s going right? We all took the next few days off, right?”

“Whoa, slow down,” Namjoon stands and gathers the trash,” We could probably make a day of it. Get dinner, see a movie, maybe go to that arcade you and Jungkook wanted to go to. That should do it, I think. Try to keep it simple but give them enough time to get everything cleaned up.”

“Time to get the baby ready then. I volunteer!” Jungkook slips his phone back him his pocket and turns his attention to me. I quirk an eyebrow at him.

“You do know that I’m older than you, right?” I finally stand, stretching up on my toes for a second to loosen the tense muscles.

“No way, you’re way too tiny to be older than me,” Jungkook gives me an incredulous look. I roll my eyes.

“I’m a munchkin cat, of course I’m short. I’m the same age as Jimin, from what Hoseok said. That being said, I don’t think I need help picking out an outfit… unless you think I’m going to embarrass you,” I didn’t mean to include the last comment but the words flowed out of my mouth before I could stop them.

“No, never baby,” Jungkook steps closer, his hands coming up to cup my cheeks,” I just wanted an excuse to spend time with you.”

“Why don’t we all go get ready? It’s gonna be a long day,” Namjoon suggests. We all disperse, heading to our rooms to get clothes and change. If we’re going to be busy, I decide on a cute but comfortable outfit. A simple dress, some leggings, and some boots. I grab my phone from my night stand and shove it in a small purse that the boys had gotten me. It feels weird being in normal clothes. Some days, it’s like I’m back seven years ago and I’m just a normal girl. I feel anxious as I make my way downstairs. I can’t look in the direction of the kitchen. My arms wrap around myself, my body shaking slightly.

“Come here, pretty girl,” Jin smiles brightly at me, opening his arms. I enter them without thinking, my Omega begging for comfort. The comfort from another Omega always hits differently. She purrs as I nuzzle my face into his chest. It doesn’t take long for everyone to gather downstairs. One look at Taehyung’s face has me leaving Jin’s arms and wrapping my arms around him. I scent him gently, hoping to help him feel a little better. He clutches me to him tightly.

We disperse into two different SUVs. I sit cuddled into Taehyung’s lap with Jimin plastered against his side. Yoongi is driving with Hoseok acting as his navigator. Jungkook drives the other car with Namjoon and Jin. The mall we pull up to is massive. My eyes widen at the sight. We get out and Jin immediately kidnaps Taehyung, saying something about spoiling his baby boy. Yoongi stops in front of Jimin and I, holding out a black rectangle to me. I take it hesitantly.

“In case you find something you want. We’ve been meaning to give you one anyway,” In my hand lays a credit card.

“But I-“ I want to tell him that I didn’t contribute any money to it but he stops me.

“Everyone has one. Trust me, we make more than enough money, sweetheart,” He gives me a wink before turning back to the group. Jimin’s hand wraps around mine, a big smile on his face.

“Come on. It’ll be fun,” I trail behind Jimin, already feeling slightly overwhelmed at all the new smells. Jimin and I trail behind everyone else, his cheerful talking keeping me distracted from getting overwhelmed.

“Oooo, come on, this one is my favorite,” Jimin begins to drag me away from the group toward some high end, name brand store.

“Shouldn’t we say something?” I glance back at the rest of the boys as they continue on to a different store.

“Nah, we usually all split off to different stores. We just have to make sure there’s more than one person,” Jimin pulls me through the door and into the store. We browse the clothing and accessories. He picks out multiple things holds them up to me but the price tag is a bit of a deterrent. Plus, they’ve bought me so many things, I don’t want to spend anymore money on me. That’s when my idea blooms.

I move to the accessories section while Jimin looks at more clothes. There are necklaces, rings, and other various jewels in cases. Hoseok, Yoongi, and Jungkook wear a lot of rings. I worry about them not being the right size but something about a few certain rings speaks to me. As I’m picking them out and paying for them, a certain smell catches my attention, sending fear shooting up my spine. I take my bag and quickly thank the cashier before running to look for Jimin.

I find him cornered, a large Alpha, obviously in rut, has him trapped in the corner. His eyes meet mine, his expression nervous. I look around for some kind of weapon but there doesn’t seem to be anything of much use around. The Alpha hasn’t noticed me yet, seeming to have honed in on Jimin. Alpha’s in rut will focus in on the first Omega they encounter if they are not mated. Anything that can bring them the kind of relief they’re looking for. The fact that this one is in a public place concerns me.

“Come on, be a good boy and help an Alpha out,” The Alpha’s plea is probably meant to entice him but Jimin shudders. Maybe he doesn’t know Jimin is already mated? Although, he definitely smells like other Alphas. I step forward and grab Jimin’s hand, pulling him closer to me so his back isn’t against the shelves anymore.

“We should go. I bet Yoongi and Namjoon are looking for us,” I try to keep my tone cheerful but I doubt it’s convincing. My hand shakes in his.

“Awe, two little Omegas for the price of one? You guys should be begging to help an Alpha out,” The Alpha’s voice makes me cringe. I hate that tone. I’ve heard it too many times.

“Our Alphas are looking for us,” My voice is small but firm.

“No self respecting Alpha would let his Omegas wander off alone. You’d be better off with me anyway,” He’s trying to entice us, to convince us, but I can see the annoyance in Jimin’s expression.

“What right do you have to disrespect my Alphas? Just because we’re Omegas doesn’t mean we can’t go off by ourselves. We’re grown ass adults and your opinion doesn’t fucking matter,” Jimin’s voice is close to a growl. I squeeze his hand reassuringly.

“Such disrespectful little bitches need to be taught a lesson,” He raises his hand but stops in his tracks.

“You wanna run that by me one more time?” Yoongi’s voice is dark and stormy. I let out a long breath that I didn’t realize I was holding.

“Do these disrespectful Omegas belong to you?” The scent of the other Alpha’s rut intensifies at the presence of another Alpha. I cover my nose, taking a shuddering breath through my mouth. Since I’m not technically mated, the smell of his rut seems to be affecting me more than it does Jimin.

“It’s not disrespect if the person deserves it, way I see it. Now, I would appreciate it if you would leave my Omegas alone,” Yoongi’s arm casually drapes over my shoulder, pulling me back into him.

“This one,” He levels a finger at me,” Doesn’t have a mating mark. Maybe you’ll let me take her for a spin.”

“Do you wanna die?” Yoongi’s tone is casual but Jimin’s grip on my hand tightens.

“Hey guys, what’s the hold up? We still have a few more stops to hit?” Jungkook’s voice comes from the front of the store. The silence between the four of us allows us to hear his approaching footsteps. Jungkook stops behind us, seemingly confused,” What’s going on?”

“Nothing. Lets just get out of here,” I speak up, turning my back on the Alpha and gently push Yoongi back toward Jungkook. He resists for a moment and then lets me push him back. We leave the store and rejoin the rest of the group. I try to keep my mind off of the strange Alpha and his attempts at Jimin. I was used to people making passes or comments to me, as an unmated Omega, but it made me uncomfortable that he acted like that to Jimin.

I throw myself into my mission. I find a pair of matching necklaces for Jimin and Taehyung. A watch for Namjoon and a different, more discreet necklace for Jin. It’s a good thing I already bought Yoongi’s because he stays glued to my side. That Alpha must have really put him on edge because his Alpha seems to be bubbling up every time someone talks to me.

“Where do we wanna eat?” Jimin’s voice speaks out over the thrum of everyone’s chatter.

“Can we try that new steak house? I’ve been dying for a steak,” Jin grins, wrapping himself around Taehyung as he speaks. Taehyung seems to have cheered up significantly, especially after he got to go to the art supply store and order all new supplies.

We pile into our cars and head to the restaurant. I end up seated between Yoongi and Taehyung, at his request. I lean my head on his shoulder, letting Yoongi pick out what to order for me. I don’t really care, just feeling content to lean on Taehyung. It’s been a long day. The idle chatter dies down some when the food comes out. I keep my head on Tae’s shoulder, not quire ready to eat yet. I’m not used to eating so often.

“Baby, you need to eat,” The look Namjoon gives me a warning. I finally sit up and take a few bites of the steak in front of me. Yoongi puts some of his pasta on my plate. I cut up part of my steak and put it on his in return.

“I can’t eat all of it,” I shrug. The food makes me feel sleepy, my stomach quickly filling. From there, we head to the movie theater. I have no idea what movie we’re seeing but it doesn’t really matter. The seats recline and Taehyung has me sitting in his lap. I curl up, my face nuzzled into his neck. I doze off, the long day catching up to me. I sleep soundly until a hand shakes my shoulder.

“Huh?” I look up groggily to see an amused Hoseok.

“Looks like our babies were tired,” He coos. I look down to see that Taehyung has also fallen asleep. After we rouse him, we finally decide to forgo the arcade for tonight and head home. When we get home, I start handing out the gifts I bought everyone.

Jimin and Taehyung’s necklaces are on silver chains with compass pendants. Jin’s has a small silver lock on it and appears quite simple but suits him. Namjoon’s watch has a brown leather band and a silver watch face. Yoongi’s ring is silver and bulky with a blue stone. Hoseok’s is a complicated, twisted silver and gold band with no stone. Jimin’s is silver and winding, overlapping each other in some spots.

“Did you only buy things for us?” Namjoon looks at me in surprise.

“You guys have bought me so many things. There was nothing I needed to buy. I wanted to get you guys something,” Saying the sentiment out loud makes me feel shy. My fingers twist together as I look at the floor.

“Good thing I bought you something then,” I look up at Yoongi’s words. He holds out a small jewelry box to me. Inside is a silver ring with a white stone I don’t recognize,” White Opal. All of us have one and it was time you got yours too.”

He slips it out of the box and onto my finger. I throw my arms around him. It makes me feel like I belong. Everyone begins to split off, Jimin practically dragging Taehyung up the stairs. I make my way to my room after watching Jin escort (maybe more like drag) Yoongi upstairs to his room. It’s the first time I’ve been alone in my room. Something about being alone in here makes me anxious. After what happened to Jimin and I earlier, I decide to head down to Jungkook’s gym.

I lay out some mats and practice what he taught me. If I’m going to have to stand up for myself, I’m going to have to be stronger. I can’t keep standing by and letting them defend me. If I can’t defend myself, I’m always going to be the victim. I can’t be the victim anymore. It’s almost daylight by the time I decide I’ve practiced enough. I fall back on the mat, breathless and sweating. I close my eyes, exhausted. Without meaning to, I fall asleep.

[yaminalapis]

@transingthoseformers I wrote a prelude

Prelude: A history of Maumee Lake Plain and its monsters

Since the founding of Detroit in 1701, rumors of monsters of all kinds have abounded. Stories of gigantic insects, too big to be of this world and regionally inappropriate, are almost as old as the city itself. As time marched on, and with no solid proof of their existence, these rumors faded until they were seen as nothing but spooky stories to keep kids inside at night. Little did people realize that these were more than mere stories.

November, 2057

“I can’t believe we have to come down into the sewers just to relax.”

“Hey, you don’t want my parents to see me smokin’ squares, eh?”

Two teenage boys hefted themselves into a large drainage pipe for the Detroit sewers. The taller one was skinny like a beanpole, with ragged red hair hidden under an equally ragged beanie. The smaller was dressed in a cobbled together outfit that had clearly been thrown on last minute.

“Man, I didn’t even wanna smoke, I wanted to go get a coney.”

“We’ll get your damn coney after I have a square.” The taller one snapped, fumbling for a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. “I swear, you need these man, or at the very least a joint.”

“Weed smells gross. I don’t like it.” The shorter boy grumbled, looking at the stained floor sheepishly.

“That’s what vape pens are for, dumbass.” The taller boy hissed, taking a drag from his cigarette. The smoke he exhaled gave the implication he might be a demon in another life. The two stood in silence for what felt like a long time, the sounds of late night Detroit filling the air and any room for conversation.

The shorter boy looked up, his brows furrowed. “Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“That sound. It sounds like jackhammers.”

The taller boy stomped out his cigarette in the stagnant water of the pipe, one final puff of smoke escaping. “Your hearing needs to be checked. There hasn’t been road work in this part of the city for years.”

“I’m not hearing things, it sounds like a jackhammer.” The shorter boy protested.

“I don’t hear anything, quit your-“ the taller boy started to snap, only to stop when he too heard it. It sounded like it was coming from just beyond their position in the tunnel.

After a few tense moments, the noise stopped. Just as the taller boy was about to continue snapping at the shorter one, a jarring crash, like a huge creature smashing through a concrete wall blasted through the drainage pipe mere feet away.

“What the hell is that?!” The taller boy shouted. As the dust settled, it seemed that the crash had just been the drainage pipe collapsing.

That was, until a large hand warped the dust and curled around the broken wall. Then another, on the same side. The creature that emerged from the hole was at least 20 feet tall, probably taller. It had two pairs of arms, an insectoid abdomen branching off its rear, a pair of bent antennae and a set of mandibles caging its mouth, but otherwise looked like a giant woman. The back of its head sported what looked like an ant head, and it’s black and brown coloring made it near indistinguishable from the dim background if not for the purple glow of its eyes cascading down like spotlights on the two boys.

It said nothing, and the boys said nothing back. After what felt like hours of staring, the smaller boy took a picture with his phone, the flash illuminating the entire creature for a brief second. The creature roared, a mix of a woman’s guttural scream and a hissing teapot.

The boys fled in screaming terror, but the creature didn’t pursue them. Instead, it made a chittering sound not unlike snickering.

“Glad to see humans haven’t changed after all these years.” she said, mostly to herself.

“Lasius, what did you find?” Another female voice asked, a similar ant like creature emerged, slightly shorter and red in coloration, but otherwise the same.

“A tunnel?” A smaller voice asked. The owner of the voice peeked over the debris. It was significantly smaller and didn’t carry any specific insect traits, aside from having four arms and a set of antennae.

“No little one. This is too perfect to be a natural tunnel. Invicta, you’re not gonna believe this. I think we made it into the human city.” Lasius said, stepping over the debris and into the drainage pipe itself.

“It took us this long?” The smaller voice asked.

“We’ve been expanding south this whole time, of course we didn’t find an entrance into the city that way.” Invicta said.

Lasius stepped to the edge of the drainage pipe, bracing herself on the rim. “Things have changed significantly since our last encounter with humans. We should report this to the queen and requisition a scouting team.”

“Do you think they’ve developed arms to hurt us yet?” Invicta asked, pulling the smaller creature close.

“It’s hard to say. Humankind has always been skiddish, so if they have the means, they’ll certainly use them. For the colony’s safety, we should close up the tunnel until we can secure it.” Lasius said. “Get the rest of the team, and maybe call a team of wasps to help for good measure. Return Xyloni to the Dome.”

“What?! But we’re just getting interesting!” Xyloni protested, being escorted by Invicta back down the tunnel. Lasius followed after a few more moments of observation.

“Xyloni, this is a matter of not only your safety, but the colony’s safety. When we offered to take you into the mines to observe what ants do, we did not anticipate to find an entrance to a human settlement. This is an extraneous circumstance.” Invicta said. As Lasius pulled what rubble she could back over the entrance, tension hung in the air.

[livfastdieyoung69]

Bones, Body, Soul.

A Jeff Hardy Story. (Ch. 5)

A pounding knock on the hollow, rickety door of the Hilton hotel room, number 103, is heard loud and clear on the muggy Thursday morning.

“Guys! C’mon, I forgot my room key!” The knocking continued, and a desperate Matt wailed on the other side while Jeff and Lemmy shuffled around in bed, Lemmy groaning from the rattling of the door. It felt like the whole damn room was shaking and they could already feel the headache growing. They stuffed themselves further into the crease of Jeff’s arm, gripping at the band of his basketball shorts, but their cuddles weren't convincing enough and Jeff clumsily slumped out of bed to throw the door open before jumping back in bed- coincidentally on Lemm.

“I’d really appreciate it if you guys didn't just sleep all morning. I want to introduce you to the new girl we're working with, Amy.” Matt looked down at the other two still rolling around in bed, Lemmy still halfway under Jeff and gripping onto him for dear life again. The room was actually freezing this time and they’d forgotten a sweatshirt.

Eventually, Matt forced them out of bed and down to breakfast with the rest of the superstars and a couple of families who looked very out of place. One of these superstars was Amy, who was super sweet and Lemmy’s new favorite person ever. Still half asleep, they ate fresh waffles with possibly stale syrup and many of those tiny paper cups full of orange juice. The Hardy’s and Amy were quick to get caught up in a conversation but Lemmy seemed out of it, too busy staring at someone behind Amy, who sat across from them.

“So, Lemmy, I’ve heard that you have a pretty similar wrestling style to Jeff and Matt, how come they didn’t pair you up with them instead?” Amy asked from across Lemmy, catching their attention.

“Oh! Uh, actually,” Their eyes lit up, replacing the glimmer of sleep that lay over top of them. “These guys started a wrestling company when we were younger, in high school, and someone in school told me about it when I moved to North Carolina. I tried out n’ got in, so I have the same upbringing as ‘em, which is why we wrestle so alike. We all loved creating characters and fighting against each other, but at one point me and Jeff had these two characters- Willow and Karma. They were pretty similar and were kind of a tag team, a lot of people really liked them and I really love being Karma, so I thought, might as well give a shot in the big leagues.” Lemmy’s passion for the subject was clear, the others at the small table smiling over at them at the memories it brought up.

“That’s so awesome! So how long have guys known each other?” Amy responded, curious about her new partners. The three went quiet, each searching for an answer in their minds, Matt eventually piping up.

“I think…uh, I had just graduated, so you guys were, what, 14 and 15?” Jeff nodded in Matt’s direction, but Lemmy was once again distracted and quickly excused themselves and jogged after someone making their way towards the elevator, too far into the hallway for the new, and very confused, teammates to see. Lemmy stumbled around the corner, calling out.

“‘Scuse me! Hey, um, excuse me, could I talk to you?” The two men turned around to find Lemmy running after them, a hopeful look and glimmering smile covering their face.

“Well, hello there Dallas! Wow, it’s been quite a while, hasn’t it?” One of them grinned as he spoke, black holes where teeth used to be.

“Yeah. Yeah, it has been, hasn’t it Mick? I really missed you guys, I wish we could’ve kept in contact.” Lemmy smiled back, revealing their own missing canine to two of the men they looked up to as mentors- Mick Foley and Al Snow. As weird as they are, Lemm found a huge sense of belonging and comfort in their company.

“Hey, speaking of that, do they…does anyone...” Al trailed off, his point was made obvious and Lemmy was shaking their head no before he could finish what he had started.

“Uh...no.” Lemmy looked down at their hands, guilt obvious in their slumped shoulders. The three went quiet for a while, Mick placing a comforting hand on Lemm’s shoulder and they looked up with a quick breath as if they hadn’t been breathing at all, as if there was too much on their mind that their body had stopped working.

“No one knows. I don’t know how long I’ll keep it that way, but I don’t know how to tell them. I’ve just…kept it a secret for so long, y’know?” The conversation paused for a section before Lemmy waved it away. “Um, anyways, I wanted to ask you something.”

“Ask away, kid!” Mick shot at them with a heartfelt grin, Al doing the same from next to him.

“Well...I just, I know that I was only a jobber and I wasn’t there for very long, at all, but it felt more like a home there than it does here. I felt more…appreciated. Even with my boys here. I’m just- I’m not being pushed, they only really put me on the card when someone else gets injured or something and I’m fed up with it! And I know it's because I’m on the women's roster, we maybe get a match every week if we beg them enough!” Lemmy’s voice rose with desperation and anger, Mick and Al trying to offer them consolidating smiles.

“I just...I just wanted to ask if you guys think that ECW would push me more than WWF does. Or maybe they would let me wrestle everyone, I've been trying to do that for a while. I think that…I think Karma and I would fit in a lot better over there.”

The arena was as crowded and compact as it always was. The card was packed full of superstars- still no one from the women’s roster with an actual match, but Amy was going out with Essa Rios for his match against the Hardyz, which would be the start of their way to working together. That was probably all the action their roster would get all week that was actually about wrestling- something Amy would get to interfere in a match.

Lemmy sat in catering with the Hardyz and Amy, who went by Lita in the ring, the group claiming one of the many bumpy, foldable tables as their own. Though all four of them were present and excited to finally be working together, Lemmy was back to staring into space. A bump to their shoulder brought them out of their confusion, finding Jeff sitting a little closer to them than he had been before with a concerned look on his face, eyebrows creased in the way they always seemed to be lately.

“You okay, Lemm? Been thinkin’ up there all day long.” A soft smile graced Lemm’s face at his concern, warmth creeping up their neck along with it. Their eyes glanced down at the table as Jeff softly brought his arm around them and pushed them into him, the concern never leaving his face but a smile adorning it as well.

“I’m all good, Jeffro. Just thinkin’ about a lot today, I guess.” Jeff hummed in response, clearly not believing them, but Lemm was quick to take the topic off his mind and moved away from his side to jokingly point a finger in his face. “Hey, don’t get all worried about me, you've gotta match! And an important one too. Speaking of which, I think you guys are on after this next one, so you should probably go get dressed and all that stuff.” Lemmy directed the last few sentences at the other two as well and watched them all get up from the table.

With a quick goodbye, Matt and Amy left to go get ready, but Jeff still stood in front of Lemmy.

“Whatever’s bothering you, you know that I’ll help you with it if you let me, right? And we’re talking about this after I get back, man.” Though Jeff towered above them from their steel, cold chair to have him there was still comforting, and so was the hand he laid on the back of their upper arm. Lemmy closed their eyes from both the comfort and how much they hated lying to him.

“I promise, I really am fine. Now go get ready, would you? I wanna watch your guys’ match.” Lemmy sent him a soft shove and a teasing grin, sending the boy on his way.

The match was amazing, as theirs always were. Amy delivered a great hurricanrana to Matt behind the ref's back and the crowd was always interactive with things like that. Lemmy loved to watch them perform, they had since their first audition into OMEGA when they watched Matt and Jeff jump around on that dumb, half-busted trampoline. But something about today- with everything that had been going on and the way the crowd cheered for Amy as they had done for their debut, Lemmy felt more anger than they had in a long time.

With watering eyes and taping feet, the feeling of deep-rooted, unwelcomed hatred sent them far back to memories of Texas. Where they had no one but grandparents with no understanding, a dad halfway across the world, and a mother who left a long, long, time ago. They weren’t good enough then, and now, after the years of work they’d put into their dreams, all of the life accomplishments, and school dances, and parties, and having an actual goddamned life, they’d skipped to be put right here in this damn company, they still weren’t good enough.

They jumped from their chair, sending it tumbling to the ground with a few clanks, and shoved their way through the cramped hallway, earning many confused stares. Billy Gunn called out for them, confused, from one of the other tables.

“Oh hey, Lemmy! How’ve you been…“ Adam, with a grinning Christian at his side, each in their silly pair of sunglasses, spoke with excitement at the sight of the duo’s very well-known friend, but his sentiments trailed off at Lemmy’s burning scowl. Lemmy continued down the hallway with no signs of stopping until they reached the end, where they grabbed ahold of the farthest door and swung it open, the sound of the metal knob hitting the concreted wall ricocheting violently. E&C glanced at each other in worry when they caught a glimpse at the door's name plate- Mr. McMahon.

Suddenly, the anger is gone and Lemmy stands in front of the desk, Mr.McMahon slowly looking up with the expression of disgust he always seems to have, and regrets their impulsive actions.

“May I help you?” The older man rasps out slowly, hand still holding a metal ballpoint pen waving out.

“I have- I need to talk to you.” They blurt out, arms crossing and posture straightening. “I don’t understand why I’m not getting on the card. The Hardys, they’re,” A scoffed laugh comes from them. “they’re out there every Smackdown and I’ve got the same skillset- we all know it. I deserve to be out there too.” It’s Vince’s turn to scoff. He leans back in the big, leather office chair.

“There are plenty of other people experiencing this, and they, Dallas, are grateful for what I give them. What makes you any better than them?”

“I may have signed a contract for you, but in case you can’t remember, I forced it down to a year. That year is comin’ around pretty damn quick, and I will happily take my unused talents somewhere I’ll be appreciated the second it's done.” They scowled, the feeling of Texas and its anger returning. Vince looks on at them silently, before placing his pen down and placing his elbows on the wooden desk, fingers locking together.

“Well, it seems nobody here is happy with this… arrangement. I see no reason why we shouldn’t just cut our business together now.” He shrugs with a smug look.

“I,” Lemmy takes a breath, tongue running over their teeth before clenching their jaw. “I think I’d have to agree with you. Why don’t you let me know when you have that paperwork done?” They send him a lasting, bitter smile, before turning around. Hand reaching for the door, they pause and turn their head. “Vince?”

He doesn’t respond.

“The next time you hear my name you're going to regret every decision you’ve ever made.”

With nowhere to go, Lemmy spends the rest of the night pacing between catering and the men’s locker room, waiting for the Hardys to show up. Matt liked to wander around the arena and socialize a bit, and Lemmy guessed Jeff had gone with him when they weren’t found in catering. Sometime in their nervous waiting, Billy Gunn had come up to them and asked, while very concerned, what was going on and if they were okay. Grateful for his attempt, Lemmy gave him the best smile they could conjure (which only made him more concerned, they looked on the verge of sobbing) and melted into his sweet hug.

As the night came to a close, Lemm watched everyone start to drag their belongings out of the arena, anxiety growing. Just as they are about to head to the locker room and grab their bags, Matt, Amy, and Jeff round the corner with matching smiles. Wasting no time, Lemmy starts walking towards them. Noticing them quickly, Jeff starts to reach out to put an arm around their shoulder to have them join the group, but his grin, along with the other two’s, quickly turns into a frown.

“Lemm, what's wrong?” Matt asks from the other side of Lita, Jeff grabbing them gently by the elbow.

“What’s goin’ on, man?” Their mouth gapes open as they look at Jeff, but they can't find the words and turn their head away. He pulls them in closer, his other hand meeting their upper arm. “Dal, sweetheart, tell me whats the matter,” He practically whispers, voice soft. “All I wanna do is help, yeah? Just let me help.”

Lemm fell against him instead of answering, eyes closing against his shoulder. His arms quickly surround them as he looks over at Matt and Amy in concern. The brothers weren’t sure if they’d even seen Lemmy like this.

“I gotta talk to you guys.” They finally mutter, barely audible. “Just…not here.”

Jeff nodded quickly, rubbing up and down their back, still looking over at Matt while he gestured towards the locker room.

“That's fine, we can go back to the hotel,” Matt assured, thankful they had decided to stay in the city for one more day. “You guys just head to the car, me and Lita will grab our stuff.” He hands the keys off to Jeff, and they’re quick to part ways. Separating from their long hug, Jeff and Lemm make their way to the car (Jeff still has a hand on their back, trying to offer some comfort.), where they sit in the backseat with Lemm's head lying on his shoulder, waiting for Matt and Amy to hop in the front seats. The drive to the hotel was quiet, the same with the walk to their room.

Amy decided to give the three some space and went to visit Trish a couple of floors down. Lemm sat on one of the beds, with Jeff beside them and Matt across from them in the one corner chair that's always in hotels, he’d pulled over.

“I got fired.”

Matt looked at them with wide, unexpected eyes and they looked down to avoid it. They refused to look at Jeff at all.

“I’m sorry?” The older brother asked.

“I, um,” A watery laugh broke from their throat as they rubbed at their forehead. “I got fired.”

“Wh-“ Jeff started. “H-Wh-I…What the hell happened, Dal?” Lemmy's shoulder shook with unwanted laughter. They looked (really) kinda fucking crazy. They managed to stop themselves after noticing the awkward silence that lingered outside of them.

“I was mad, at everything. Like I first was when I met y’all,” They shrugged. “Went into Vince’s office to have a word, and then it was all…everything was done. That's it.” Their hands motioned in front of them. “It’s done.”

“No, no, we just need to- to talk with him again, I’m sure it was just a misunderstanding-“ Matt tries, but Lemm only shakes their head.

“Nah. It’s gone. Here? M’ done. They don’t want nothin’ to do with me, nothin’ at all. Alls they wanna do is let me sit and waste, like the rest of the roster that gets nothing. Alls they ever do is pick and choose who's got it and let everyone else out to waste. Waste! This damn company didn’t want me in the first place, and I’m fuckin’ done with ‘em.” Neither of the brothers knows how to respond to their anger. Minutes pass in silence.

“Lemm, what the hell are you gonna do? What are we gonna do?” Jeff finally speaks up. Lemmy shakes their head, finally looking over to him. The look in his eyes was heartbreaking.

“You’re-you’re not gonna do nothing. Those people love you, and in a couple of weeks, you two’ve got the match of a damn lifetime. I could not be more proud of you, and I won’t let you pull yourself down for me. Neither of you.” A sense of grief rose in the room. Not once in their careers, or really, for the past half-decade, had they spent much more than a day apart. Alliances were hard to keep in this industry, let alone friendships, and now it felt a little bit like everything was washing down the drain.

“…What’re you gonna do, though?” Jeff repeated. A minute of silence washed back over.

“I…” They hesitated, wiping their hands back over their face. “When my dad left ECW, and WWF called him up, I…I, um,” They paused again, voice growing heavy and wet. “…You can’t be mad at me when I tell you this.” Lemm’s voice is muffled behind their hands as they look up to the sky. Jeff grabs their wrists, gently, and pulls them down.

“Dal, c’mon,” He rubs the soft underside of their arms. “You don’t have to carry this by yourself anymore. Whatever it is, I’ve got you. Just tell me. We won’t be mad.” Matt backs him up with his own assurance.

“…You know how much I loved ECW,” They started. “I mean- it was, it was so much more…brutal than when dad was in WCW before that. And I just…God, I wanted to be there so bad, and, y’know,” Another laugh escaped them, unable to stop the nervous habit before they let everything rush out. “He’d-he had just left n’ come here n’ you guys had summer jobs, there was…I heard they were looking for a couple people so I called the number in the Yellowbook- n’ it was stupid, but I just- everything was so- it was, it was everything I wanted from wrestling-“

“I’m kinda a little lost here, what?” Matt interrupted, shaking his head softly.

“…when I was 16 I told Paul Heyman, ECW’s creative director, that I was 19 so that I could job for a couple weekends. When I told y’all I was babysitting for Uncle Scott’s friend.” The room went silent, and Matt put his head in his hands.

“Oh, my, God, Lemmy.”

“Yeah, I know, it's bad.” They nodded franticly with closed eyes and another panicked laugh.

“I don’t… what's that gotta do with everything now?” Jeff asked, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“ECW…Paul liked me. I think he knew I was lying, half the damn roster was lying about something. I still have his number, I’m gonna call him. This sounds crazy, but everything- all of this, is happening for a reason. ECW is my destiny.”

AHHHHHHH

somebody yell at me. SOMEBODY YELL AT ME. i make u wait A YEAR AND TWO MONTHS for this pile of garbage im so sorry

anyways happy new year, figured id actually write in this one but i have no clue where to go after this so…if you have to wait another year i give my condolences. I did go back n make the rest of the series actually okay-ish before this which is half of what took me this long lol

i bought myself a 370 dollar lego set for christmas so ive def been keeping myself busy, and im never buying anything ever again!

[hatshepsuthypatia]

Abduction by the Death God

This is a Orihime POV fanfic on her and Ulquiorra's dynamic, or just what I believe would have been her take on her time in Las Noches with Ulquioirra.

I have met death gods. They look like us, wear obsidian kimonos and wield huge katanas, reminiscent of traditional Japanese theatres that I used to visit as a child. This was before my brother’s demise. The first death god that I met at 15, (albeit he was officially recognised as one sometime later on) gave my dead brother absolution and helped him pass over to the Otherworld. But unlike the lores of them being terrifying, the death god that saved me and my brother was both kind and familiar, his eccentricity only limited to his funnily scary face and orange hair. Thanks to him, I met a lot more death gods, and none scared me. Not even the ones who were 8 ft tall with bells on their head & a feisty pink-haired kid on their shoulder. Deep inside my heart, I acknowledged them as soldiers that protected the weak souls and not as death gods of the terrifying lores that I had heard as a toddler, ones that were much worse than my drunk father and abusive mother. 

However, not long after meeting the good death gods, I met another. In creation, he was an antithesis of the death gods that I had met. But in my reality, he was the original death god, the one from my nightmarish childhood. He was the reaper of souls, of emotions who killed over 1000 people in my town, while I could do nothing to protect them. And that was the day hope in me started chipping away. The hope that I had onerously built after my brother’s death. The foundation of my hope was already built on shaky grounds and once he first arrived in my town, it didn’t take long to crumble. Being helpless that day felt like drowning despite knowing how to swim, so I tried to paddle harder and swim upwards towards the surface but I kept sinking and sinking until he finally dragged me to the bottom of the dark, insidious ocean of despair.

He dragged me, dragged me away from the world of happy mortals to his abode of eternal night. When my friends came to save me from this predicament I had landed myself into, he and his lot squashed any light of hope by torturing & butchering my friends. He taunted me every time their soul power vanished in the dark crescent night, extinguishing my hope, and slowly suffocating my will to live and return. 

Amongst all of them, I thought he was the most terrifying, the most different. His presence constantly loomed over me, like death to the freezing. But the after spending a long time with him, I had a horrifying realization. He was the epitome of nihilism, of the despair emerging from an unfeeling void. Bonds meant nothing to him, while hope and happiness were a mirage for the weak. And I, the person who had been surviving off my recently built non-sanguine bonds and forced laughs found myself falling into that void. As repulsive as he was, he was a mirror that I resonated with, a bit too much for my liking. Which is why I put up a fight. In my own way, I tried to be foolishly human in that soulless land. In retrospect, some of my actions were questionable. Yet I was a human, and as a human, I tried to do everything that defied what he stood for. Life is hard yet we build our happiness, and despite the hardships, I had shakily built a lively life. Succumbing to his beliefs meant destroying my very conviction to live and embrace happiness. 

His path was easy to follow. After all, who hasn’t looked at a dark void from a height and not been tempted to jump? And he was very tempting, with his words, actions and beliefs. Relishing in my dwindling hope and luring me into jumping in his abode of eternal void became a personal business for him. It was evident when he had my orange-haired saviour by the neck, blasting a hole through his chest. His eyes made it obvious - the fight was ours, and killing him was a way to kill any hope in me. Kill the human in me. 

And in those few moments where time was running through molasses, he had won. My human protector was lying dead on the rocks of Las Noches while he reigned, the God of Death. My healing shield, that had a measly job of reviving my saviour’s body, failed. The cracks on its golden surface had mocked the state of my beliefs. 

I wanted to be saved. I wanted to be saved from him, and from myself who found herself falling back into neverending despair. I had been there before when my only family had died, and I did not want to struggle anymore. I was too tired to struggle, to fight, I just wanted to be saved. Even if the one who saved me was the corpse in front of me. To me his dead body held more hope than my broken self did. 

When my orange-haired human saviour rose back from the dead, he was no longer the warrior fighting to protect my humanity. He was the personification of violence. He had emerged from the grave to reap the soul of my soulless jailor. He hesitated none while brutalizing him, and his victim cried not once in his agony. To him, modus operandi of his swiftly-arriving death was was poetically fitting. His nihilistic soul being defeated by another, in a fight so quick yet destructive that it leaves the prey with no thought other than the primal instinct to protect his skin. 

Sometimes I wonder if this is why he reached out to me in his impending death. As if being on the side of powerlessness made him realize why we humans do not give up hope even in despair. I wonder if he finally realized why my hope and belief only grew stronger with consecutive psychological defeats. 

Ulquiorra was right when he said bonds and feelings were for the weak. Afterall the strongest usually walk alone. But he was not right when he said that the very bonds were meaningless. If today weak coexist with strong it's because of the bonds they have with other people.

If today's weak & disposable society like mine feels seen or heard, it's because of these bonds. They make life worth living, these indispensable friendships. 

The fact that I was weak is the reason I found my friends for life and the reason I continue to live, live a life with meaning and hope. Hope, that he struggled to latch onto in his death. 

I used to hate my weak, clumsy self. I loathed my powerlessness and my inability to help people. Today, I have grown past that. I am working harder than ever to become stronger, to become more capable. And it would not have been possible had I not forgiven the little powerless girl from that night. No matter how strong I may or may not get, I will continue being the girl who never gave up on her bonds or morals as it was what kept me myself in that eternal night of Las Noches. Though in this tug-of-war of ours, he had almost pulled me into his magnetic void of despair, I persevered because of those very bonds between me and my friends. And finally, with the strength of our humane bonds, I could forgive him and bid him adieu with a meaningful death, where he could finally see a heart in his hands. 

[meteor752]

Curious of what a modern au with the kids would look like…

Oh Anon don’t make me go there

(I am going there)

Not making designs for them (at the moment >:)) but I will give you some headcanons

Liana

Home girl is on her way to take over the fucking world

Comes from an extremely confusing home life, with her dads splitting up and getting together over and over again, both of them having had other partners during the breakup periods that never really last

In the present she has two dads and an additional step dad. She doesn’t like him that much, but her dads relationship seem more stable with him so she bears with it

Liana lost her leg just as she did in canon, due to frostbite. She got lost in the woods during winter for almost a week, and lost one of her shoes in a hole. She likes to dramatize the story though, to seem cooler

Started her own company at eighteen, and it grew into a multimillion corporation after only two years

She dabbles in a lot of things with her company, everything from movie production to train travel, tech to food items, theme parks to merch, and everything in between. Liana doesn’t calm down until she has control over every major industry in the world

Evil capitalist? Yes but consider this: Sexy evil capitalist lesbian. It makes up for it

She does own a lot of charities too, the majority of which being somewhat bird related, like the preservation of endangered birds, or rehabilitation of birds that have been abused by their owners. She likes birds

Still married to Jassy, her childhood best friend. She spoils her wife absolutely rotten (mostly with anime merch and manga’s), and would give up her entire company for her

Buuuuuut, Jassy hasn’t asked that of her yet, so Double Co. will keep on growing

Wes

Even without the imp genes, he’s still a big fricking boy

I mentioned multiple times that BDubs and Impulse were a bit like beauty pageant moms with Wes. Well…yeah

BDubs and Impulse wasn’t full beauty pageant moms (like those fuckers who like, perform surgeries on their four year olds so they will have fuller lips and shit), but beauty pageants was a huge part of my boy’s childhood, which wasn’t the best thing since he hates the spotlight and when people have their eyes on him. His dads would have stopped signing him up for them if he asked, but he was too nervous to do so, so yeah

But hey, at least my man can play the cello like a champ as an adult, since that was his talent.

He’s studying geology because rocks are cool :)

As an adult is relationship with his dads is…a bit strained, but he’s working through it in therapy

Engaged to his fiancé Jekiv, and has been so for many years now. Both of them are still studying, and even though his best friend (and stepsister’s) rich af wife has offered to handle the budget for the wedding, they want to wait until they can afford it themselves

Still has OCD and a lot of Anxiety, but now there’s at least medicine!

Gertrude

Golden retriever personified

She works out everyday just so she can lift and hug every dog she meets

One of her dads cheated on her other dad when she was little, so she grew up in separate homes. It was alright though, Big B would always bake with her and take her to the dog park, while Ren would tell fantastical stories and play as much dress up as she wanted

So yeah, Gertrude is actually pretty aight in this universe

I imagine Renchanting is some shop her dad owns, maybe either like a bisexual crystal shop or like a costume place, but she probably works part time there

Volunteers at a lot of dog rescue shelters, and has adopted many of them

Is studying to become a vet, but is also practicing writing on the side. She wants to write children’s fantasy novels, about princesses and magic

Is dating Novo, and has been waiting for him to propose for almost six years. She gonna keep on waiting

Johnny

Man is half British half Arizonan, still somehow speaks with a country accent. Only god knows where he got it from, and I don’t even think he does

Apart from more humane features, nothing about Johnny changes. Still an Aromantic icon, still a sweetie, still a rancher at heart, and he can still absolutely shred it on the Banjo

Suffers from mild anemia and asthma. He sometimes struggles to keep up with his friends, especially when they were children, but he always found ways to keep their pace, even if that means he sometimes had to be carried

He absolutely has one of those trucks that he treats as his baby. He’s worked on it for years, he has a name for it (It’s Butternut), he will cry if it’s even slightly scratched, it’s his child and he loves it very much.

Gertrude probably taught him some mechanics to take care of Butternut

Dreams of one day owning a ranch, but that’s a bit away

He probably volunteers and helps out at a lot of stables and riding schools, wrangling horses and whatnot. He’s got a natural talent, what can I say?

Jassy

She still styles her hair in all of those ridiculous anime styles, but now it takes a considerable amount of more hairspray and time

The way she bonded with her dads as a kid was through their favorite medias, so with Etho they would always talk Naruto and anime while with Joel she would always talk Shrek and Harry Potter

Has taken Ninjitsu and parkour classes since she learned how to walk

The only dyed part of her hair is the green streak. She has incredibly pale blonde hair

Married to one of the most successful entrepreneurs ever, and she pulled that bitch by being a fucking weeb

Is extremely into Cosplay, and has a Naruto OC that is Kakashi’s super cool powerful daughter

Has a job in a book store, mostly because she enjoys having something to do during the days. Is a bad employe tho, spends most of the time reading manga or mystery novels

Collects knives and daggers as a hobby because she’s just that bitch

Jekiv

Imagining Jekiv as not a Zombie is actually very difficult

In canon Martyn just kinda dipped, but imma say he stuck around here, so yeah Jekiv grew up with both of his parents. Separated of course, but they were both present

Still, he’s got a lot better relationship with his mom than his dad. They’re more alike

Suffers from Hyperthyroidism, which is the reason behind his skinny figure, his patchy hair, his weak muscles, and his bulging eyes. He’s had it since he was a tween, and he tries to not let it bother him

He gets sunburnt really easily so he rarely goes outside when the sun is shining. He’s pale af

Is studying forensic pathology, and works part time at a morgue. He’s always had a weird fascination with dead bodies, but hey at least he isn’t a serial killer

Would absolutely be a serial killer if he had the skills and strength to do so

Owns over twenty breeds of frog, two of which is poisonous

Has a resting bitch face, but he also is just a straight up bitch sometimes

Novo

Mans still a lil freak

Has Stahl’s ear syndrome and thinks it’s cool as fuck. Usually has his hair tied up to show it off

Bleaches and dyes his hair a new color every month. His hair is permanently damaged because of it, but he’s mostly fine with it

While his parents are on non speaking terms, they’re a lot more healthy than in canon. Novo is well raised and loved, he’s just Like That

Has a freakish resistance to the cold, like, Canadian level resistance, so mans will just lay in in a t-shirt and skirt in the snow while taking a nap

Picks up a new instrument every few weeks. He can’t play any of them, but he likes to find ways to annoy his friends with them

Is studying law, actually. He may not look or act it, but he’s freakishly smart, and he wants to become a prosecutor

Is dating Gertrude, and has been waiting for her to propose for almost six years. He’s gonna keep on waiting

[writingwhilecaffeinated]

Hi! I've been reading your fic for a while now, and I want to come here to just make my point that I love your writing and your fanfic (Unspooled Thread).

Can I just have this moment to say that I love how you're portraying Violet?

I mean, in the books that I read, I thought she was worse than in the TV show (I like Violet, I just mean that she's more insistent and stuff in the books). In the show, we can see she loves her family but is settled on marrying all of her children for love, because she wants them to have what she had. Which is beautiful because we're talking about love, but also too pressuring and kinda selfish, if you think about it. Because it's love, we don't see it as selfish, and because she's a mother, and a good one as they sell to us. But taking Eloise as an example, Eloise doesn't want any of this, or at least not in the way her mother wants it for her. And it's upsetting that she has to live in a certain way because society AND her mother demands her to (although Violet is very chill about it concerning Eloise. She doesn't force her to marry and all that)

EITHER WAY- MY POINT BEING:

I love that Violet is kind of a shell of what she once was. I don't know about the younger ones, but at least Anthony, Benedict, Daphne and Eloise have their problems with her. Anthony by being forced to deal with everything, Ben and Daphne kinda the same but in other aspects. And I love how you're always hinting at Benedict being fed up with it, wanting to be the child again and not the father of his siblings. Even if it's unfair, we know that Anthony already has this hole, and it's exhausting to know everyone else has to suffer the same fate, the older ones.

I loved how Daphne confronted Violet in this chapter. As a mother, Violet had failed her when she failed to prepare her for life. Of course, it's not Violet's fault. Daphne could simply not have gone with Simon into a bloody garden known to be a place where you're ravished SUHAHUSAHUSUAHHSUA She could have done it for her team. But once everything happened, Violet could have tried harder to explain things considering she was overly familiar with the notion, having EIGHT children. I know it's awkward, but good Lord, a bit more would suffice.

Also, I know Portia isn't a great mother to Penelope, but I like the TV version, and I also like that she showed concern for Marina in some extent. I like how Bridgertons and Featheringtons are opposite to each other in many aspects, and I think I really like how Portia is everything Violet can't be. She may not show affection as Violet does, but she is bloodthirsty for getting her daughters a better life. She does whatever she can, unashamedly.

I have much more to say, but I said quite a lot USHAHUSAHUSHUAHUSAHUSAUHSA So I'll apologize for this huge ask and go back to study.

First and foremost, thank you for reading!! I appreciate it immensely and I hope you will continue to like it! ♥️♥️♥️

Second, I have FEELINGS about Violet, all that you’ve seen by how well you dissected I’m portraying her in this fic and her children’s complicated feelings about her. @velvetcovered-brick and I discussed at length how do we portray this loving mother figure that also has flaws? How do we demonstrate the complicated emotions her older children might have about it?

You’ve nailed it on the head. Yes, she’s a loving mother but she cannot force her children to chase live in the way she wants them to. That’s a journey they must have on their own, it cannot be forced.

While Benedict’s character in the show hasn’t been explored via flashbacks like Anthony has, I have assumed that since Anthony has had to balance being a viscount and a father figure. When Anthony is consumed with the role of viscount, Benedict, and I have always assumed Daphne, took on parent roles.

This strikes me the most for Benedict in the way he checks on Eloise or how he wrangles the squabble between Gregory and Hyacinth at the breakfast table. For Daphne you see it in how she treats her sisters.

At the same time, I imagine they wish their mom would step up a bit more cause they want their own lives separate from the care of their siblings. They may love their family but that doesn’t change wanting to be an independent adult with your own identity.

Daphne’s bitterness needed to be… palpable. I always felt how it came through in the show, feeling so unprepared. And if I’m being honest… I have a similar feeling towards my own mother. My mom hated having tough conversations, whether it was about how my body worked or about emotions. So she preferred to never have them at all. So I identify with Daphne’s feelings deeply.

And while Portia is not my favorite character, I have no doubt she does love her daughters. Does she underestimate Penelope? Yes. Has she been a neglectful of her youngest? Yes. But I know she loves her and truly believes she is doing what’s best.

Phew, that was a lot of feelings. Anyways, thank you for reading and I hope you’ll continue to like the story!! ♥️♥️♥️