#that’s fine? like. have some COUTH.

[adrianicsea]

i acknowledge that it’s ultimately silly and frivolous and parasocial to be upset about the actions of a celebrity but like. god i used to think rob was SO so fucking cool and like… what happened? where did all of that passion go? saying the word “sellout” now may seem like a foregone conclusion or like “oh you’re just now getting that memo?” but like. god damn.

[slowcatsisland]

Dracule Mihawk; Ideal Type Deep Dive

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A/N: this is prolly gonna be setting up some blurbs I do of Mihawk x reader but the reader’s like a loose OC w/some distinctions like backstory/general wardrobe nothing too forceful so readers can still feel like apart of the story but something I’d have fun writing yk so the writing style of this is different than original headcanons, leans more into blurbs

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Think Morticia and Gomez Addams

Mihawk would like someone that matches his dark and aloof aura

Mihawk is rather disengaged and bored of just about everything in life, but his lover is the one thing that he is engrossed by. I’m talking obsession, like a couple that’s too in love with each other that no one else is in the room with them.

Mihawk would be drawn to something with intense, dark features like darker hair and eyes. Sucker for lipstick, any shade of red. Black lipstick is one of his favorites too.

Mihawk would need to be with someone that can hold their own. His partner needs to be able to fight and be strong enough to defend themselves in a majority of scenarios.

Mihawk lives for thrill whether he admits it or not. His partner and him in a wild love chase *chef’s kiss*. Someone who can match his ‘cat and mouse’ energy and be frisky with him. Someone that likes to mess around with him and ignite their relationship. Be that some caresses then a smooth exit out the door or challenging him to something, he’s following you as soon as you’re out of his sight.

Mihawk would love long length dresses. Something that screams regality and empowers his lover and makes them look beautiful.

I see Mihawk as being a sucker for teasing. Your gown has a deep v neck and your cleavage is exposed perfectly? He’s looking. There’s a thigh split in your skirt or dress? He’s looking. Your corset hugs your waist and accentuates your hips. He’s looking and feeling you up. Whisper something in his ear, give him a long moment of intense eye contact, rub your hand along his chest then exit the room. He loves loves loves it!! He loves it all I cannot stress enough he’s transfixed by his lover for life.

Mihawk most likely wouldn’t want someone clingy, but someone obsessed with him. There’s a fine line and it’s easy it blur it. Whining about how he’s been gone from Muggy Kingdom and made you feel kinda lonely might come across as irritating if he heard it too many times. Someone who could keep themselves busy until he returns and grab him by his coat collar and tell him that he spent too much time away from the island is more enticing to him and makes him just as obsessed as his lover. (I really hope that made sense)

Mihawk likes someone that can banter with him too. Someone that can flirt with him whether it’s just them in the room or a whole navy fleet. Someone bold and confident in themselves, that loves themselves maybe a bit too much.

(Literally just imagine a scene with you and Mihawk exchanging flirtatious eye contact while fending off against marines and yall end up right next to each other and just as the last marina drops he grabs ahold of you and whispers another love confession against your lips omfg..)

Mihawk would want someone that is well rounded. Someone who knows the way the world works and has a good brain underneath all their beauty. Someone cunning enough to scam a poor barkeeper out of their berri but compassionate enough to feed the stray cats of the town. Someone that can hold a conversation with him of the best wines or whiskey and defend their favorites against his own.

Someone with manners. Mihawk appreciates couth people that talk with an air of knowledge and slyness and can read through the lines of marine propaganda. Mihawk needs some romance in his relationship, there must be love and trust, not just looks and lust.

Mihawk would pour his whole being into a relationship and needs that to be reciprocated. While he might be nonchalant, he can still be dedicated. People may know of his lover, they may not. He doesn’t really speak upon it but won’t deny it if someone were to bring it up.

Someone that was also a pirate would suit Mihawk. They can handle being away from him for long periods of a time, they can defend themselves and have connections to powerful people (shanks imagine you knew shanks outside of Mihawk’s rivalry with him). He would never entangle with a marine, he has a strong hatred for them because of his past. A civilian that hasn’t led a tumultuous life wouldn’t be best prepared for whatever hardships may come Mihawk and his love’s way.

Someone who knows how to dance!!! Oml imagine dancing with Mihawk and not js white girl dancing I’m talking duo romantic dances. Theres romance, there’s sexual tension, there’s a bond that flows between y’all’s bodies.

Someone with desire in them. Lemme explain, someone that can go a couple months without his help sexually, but craves him so bad when they finally reunite they can have a passionate session once alone. Someone to match his romantic freakiness.

Mihawk would want his partner to have a healthy relationship with sex. Sex is an act of devotion, and whether him and his love engage it 0 or 3 times a day, he wants both of them to enjoy it to the fullest.

Mihawk would prolly want his lover to be morally grey. If he kills someone and you get mad at him for it, yall won’t work out. There are exceptions to this, and he can easily change his ways if that’s what his lover coaxed him to do though. But if he retells how he hunted down Don Kreig’s whole pirate fleet because they awoke him from his nap, he can’t have you try to slap him and give him a lecture on how he’s a heartless murderer (bc he is a heartless murderer).

Mihawk is loyal, and it’s a given he would expect that back. No matter how long yall are apart, no one else should satisfy you in the ways a lover should because trust ain’t no one doing that for him.

Someone who loves food, he’s quite a good cook and frequents the Baratie. The Baratie is well accustomed to serving the two of you on your monthly date (oml I should write a blurb abt Sanji tryna make moves on you while Mihawk watches in amusement looking all smitten or smth lmao).

Mihawk would prefer his lover to have a calm rationale. If his lover starts freaking out and screaming over something inconvenient or starts harsh arguments over miscommunications the relationship is doomed to fail.

Someone that is a gossip lol. Read the news and try to theorize why Alabasta was featured twice and the first time it mentioned the Warlord Crocodile’s casino having a river around it bc it’s Alabasta and it hasn’t been raining there in months apparently. Some fun stuff like that haha.

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Mwah 😽

[highhhfiveee]

mint

pairing: mike schmidt x blackfem!reader summary: you’re abby’s mint chocolate-loving babysitter. mike takes notice. wc: 1.3k tags: suggestiveness, swearing, fluff. *minor movie spoiler that isn’t a spoiler fr but kind of is* a/n: oi. this is my first official piece of fanfic on tumblr and i'm excited but also super nervous. i never knew what characters i wanted to write for as most of my fandoms are obsolete tbh (teen wolf and maze runner, i'm looking at you 💔) but after watching the fnaf movie and falling in love with j hutch like i'm 14 again, i wanted to try to write for mike!  i'm sorry if this story sucks tbh. i wrote it pretty quickly, did not edit it in any way (watch for grammar and spelling errors!) and i'm still trying to establish characters and plot and do all this silly billy worldbuilding, but i'll get better! i'm also taking requests for both fluff and smut, so if y'all would like to send anything for me to write, i'll def accept! like i said in my last post, i think i'm gonna redo my tumblr layout so i can feel like a true fanfic/misc blog lmao so ignore its under construction phase ((: i hope y'all enjoy this though bc i've been thinking ab mike schmidt all night 

i have sooo many ideas, but between last night and this morning, i’ve been thinking of abby’s babysitter!reader (bc fuck max). 

you’ve been channel surfing in the living room since you put abby down, working with her to lock down a nightly routine. ideally, she’d bathe, eat dinner (god willingly), brush her teeth, and then you’d be able to get her to lay in bed and doze off. some nights, this required dessert. 

“you just brushed your teeth though. it’s gonna taste gross.”

“not if it’s one of those mint chocolate things you always have.” you straighten up, eyes squinted at the child before you; she meant the small, sometimes melted, squares of Andes mint chocolate you always kept. they’d always been your favorite, a guilty pleasure in this fucked up world. 

you hadn’t been babysitting abby for long, and you didn’t realize that she'd been watching you crush the chocolates like it was light work. they were easy to eat, and once you had one, you found out how easy it was to eat another one, and then another one, and then another one until there was a mountain of crinkled foil next to your phone and chocolate smeared on your face. 

"please, y/n. just one," you didn't exactly know if it was a lie. abby was convincing, able to break you down with her eyes, pleading and puppy-dog like. "please." 

you cave, leaning down to brush her hair back from her forehead and place a gentle kiss on the skin. with pursed lips, you whisper, "fine, but tomorrow night. i have to get some more." 

abby does nothing but smile, eyes fluttering closed. you stay with her for a bit like you always do--watching the way her chest rises and falls, and how her features twitched with slumber. features scarily similar to mike's. 

of course she'd look like mike. they were siblings, no shit, but the resemblance occupied your brain. there was sweet abby, with her colorful clothes and scribbled drawings and persuasive aura, and then there was mike. 

you shake your head, giving abby another kiss before exiting her room. you didn't need to think about mike. he wasn't what you were here for. you'd come to abby's school as an aide and after she'd privately confided in you about her home life, you knew you had to help her. you would do anything for her, even if that meant taking care of her while suppressing the overwhelming school girl crush you had on her older brother.

mike was a bit older than you, which didn't scare you at all. guys in their early 20s were rarely mature, doing anything they could just to fuck; but guys in their late 20s, mike specifically, had only ever shown you couth, surprisingly. 

for nearly two months, five mornings a week, the sound of the door being unlocked would ring out. you'd turn to see sunshine pouring into the living room, enveloping mike's brooding figure in a radiant golden glow.

he'd hang his coat on the wall hooks, drop his bag down to his feet, and give you a small but warm smile. you'd try to not to embarrass yourself as you two made small talk, packing up your things.

you always left unscathed, but recently it'd been hard. you were always thinking about him, dreaming about him even; how his hair would feel between your fingers, how his hands would feel on your face, how his face would feel between your thighs. 

the thought is washed away, drowned out by the sound effects of a loud infomercial when the door opens, and you're turning and squinting against the wash of pale yellow on your face. mike steps forward with a, "hey, y/n" and you meekly raise your hand to wave. 

he hangs his hoodie up to reveal his shoulder blades flexing under an uncharacteristically tight navy blue sweater. you can't help but stare.

"just wake up?" his voice is raspy, but he's still facing the wall, rummaging in his bag for something. 

"um...yeah. brain's still turning on," you lie, tossing the thick blue blanket off your body. you didn't sleep at all, kept up with your thoughts and the last of your Andes mints (though you loved her, you couldn't give abby your last ones).

"hm," he mutters, finally turning to you but keeping his hands behind his back. something crinkles in them and you raise your eyebrow at the tired yet amused expression he takes with you. it's enough to make your body hot and you awkwardly pull at the collar of your shirt, fanning yourself off.

"hot?" the gravelly tone sends you into a giggling fit, shaking your head as you shoot to your feet. you have to leave before you do or say something you regret. 

"uh, yeah, it was s-super hot under that...um...blanket. i shouldn't have worn sweatpants to s-sleep," you stutter, nodding your head along with mike as he steps closer to you. this couldn't be the moment something happens, right? it'd been so casual between you too, very friendly, and he'd never shown any signs of trying to do anything with you before. why would he choose right now, so spontaneously? 

he stands before you, the slightest bit taller than you. you're able to see every pore, every freckle, every microscopic detail in his eyes and lips.

you open your mouth, hoping your heart doesn't fall out, to ask what's happening, when he reveals a bag of Andes mints, one bigger than you've ever seen.

your mouth stays open in surprise. "wh-"

"abby's been talking about them. i wondered where she found out about them but--" he nudges his head towards the coffee table, where a small mound of green wrappers lay. you swear under your breath, cursing yourself for not throwing them away like you usually do. 

"i'm sorry," you whisper, blushing beyond measure as you begin to frantically pack your things. "i should be more careful with that stuff."

"god, y/n, you're saying it like it's coke," mike chuckles. he sets the bag down on the couch and reaches out to you, placing his hand on yours as you shove things into your tote. "hey." 

his voice forces you to stop and look up. you melt under his stare just like you do with abby. the puppy-dog thing must run in the family.

"i feel bad about not being able to pay you yet, and i really appreciate all you're doing. abby told me that you loved those mints, so..."

"thank you, mike," you say over the sound of your pounding heart. you didn't care about the money, you didn't need it. being appreciated by someone who made your heartbeat resonate throughout your body was payment enough. "this is really sweet." 

"thank you, y/n. you don't know how much this means to me." You scoff, throwing your tote over your shoulder and looking down at your feet. 

"i'm always happy to help." you and mike stand facing each other for what feels like hours, the air as thick as molasses between you. his eyes were squinted, low and dark and intriguing.

you wished you could read his mind. what was he thinking? did his heart do the same thing as yours, wacking against his ribcage with no end in sight? did he stay up thinking about you when he was supposed to be sleeping, imagining how you felt, what you sounded like, how you tasted---

"see you later tonight?" his voice rocks you out of your trance. he's not thinking about you. he's tired, wondering when you'll leave so he can fall into his bed and doze off. 

"yeah. tell abby i said i'll see her tonight." your smile is tight as you exit the house, cursing at yourself as you get into your car. 

you didn't know how long you could go on like this. 

ya, i know this sucks and it isn't really anything but we're gonna work our way through these fics and blurbs to really develop a cute relationship (,: i will still be writing other fics for mike, and possibly using another babysitter!reader in a different universe, but as for now, we're gonna be rocking with these two (: (thinking that we’ll label her as 🌱🍫!reader)  all notes are appreciated (: thanks for reading!

[hotmessmaxpress]

Rosquez Onlyfans au, part 8/?

The porn is back 🤍 1500 ish words and vale finally gets to plow that twink

Note to my Italians: I hope the travel makes sense. I was on travel websites trying to find flights and train tickets and that’s what I found 😅 I have unfortunately never been to Italy and I did my best

Marc flies into Ancona and takes a train to Pesaro. The plan is for Vale to pick him up there, and drive him to his home in Tavullia. His train gets in late, and despite his exhaustion from traveling he is nearly vibrating with anxiety in his seat.

What if Vale doesn’t come get him? Maybe this is all a trick to make Marc leave Vale alone, and he’s going to be stuck at an Italian train station in the middle of the night.

What if Vale comes to get him and they don’t actually get along? What if they don’t have chemistry? That’s perhaps Marc’s biggest fear; that Vale will come get him and decide that he doesn’t actually like him after all. Marc is worried that he might not be good enough for Vale.

His train is only a few minutes late, and his heart is racing as he takes his bag and walks onto the street to find Vale.

Marc had assumed he’d try to be discreet, but he either does not care about being spotted or he is oblivious– he is parked illegally, completely blocking two entire taxi spaces, and Marc can hear music playing through his open window.

Vale gets out of the car when Marc approaches, and they hug. Marc is surprised that Vale would be fine being so public, and he mentions it when they get in the car and Vale takes off.

Vale shrugs. “It’s late at night. People will leave us alone.”

Marc hums in reply. It’s not as if he knows any better, so he may as well take Vale’s word for it.

Vale turns to grin at him as they hit the road.

“Welcome to Italy.”

Marc is so in love with him that it’s embarrassing. He wants to kiss him; he wants to suck his dick in the car while he drives. He wants to beg Vale to pull over.

He doesn’t, because he has some couth, but judging by the way Vale keeps looking at him and the charged air in the car, Vale wouldn’t tell him no if he asked.

Since it is late, Vale promises that they can do a tour in the morning.

“Will you let me ride with you?” Marc asks, excitedly.

Vale looks him up and down. “Can you fit on any of my bikes? You’re so small.”

Marc can feel his face heat up.

“I can handle whatever bike you give me.”

Vale’s eyes are heated and he grins.

“We’ll see about that.”

Marc can’t help his little shrill giggle.

“Will I have to meet Uccio?”

Vale laughs.

“Maybe. I told him to stay away but he might come anyway just to bother me.”

Marc wrings his hands nervously.

“You won’t kick me out, will you?”

“Only if you beat me when we race,” Vale says with a shrug and a wink.

They barely make it inside the house before they’re on each other. Marc doesn’t know or care who moves first. They meet in a frenzy of lips and teeth and hands, and Marc moans into Vale’s mouth.

Vale gets his hands on Marc’s waist underneath his shirt, and pulls him close to his body. Marc wraps his arms around Vale’s neck, threading his fingers through the curls on the back of his neck and hoping he can hold Vale there, against him, forever.

They kiss until they can stand to part, and Vale pulls Marc upstairs and into his bedroom. Marc freezes in the doorway.

“You really do have a bike in here.” He lets go of Vale’s hand to step toward it and peer at it. He turns to Vale with wide eyes. “You won a championship on this,” he says, in awe.

Vale grins.

“Sit on it,” he encourages.

Marc climbs onto the bike immediately, settling himself into the seat. It feels at once foreign and familiar; the feeling of sitting on a racing bike is like second-nature to him, but he’s acutely aware of who the bike belongs to.

He’s hard in his joggers.

When he looks up at Vale, he can see that Vale is similarly affected, judging by the bulge in his own pants. Marc swings his leg back over the bike and Vale advances on him, grabbing him and manhandling him from the bike to the bed.

Marc is much stronger than Vale but he lets himself be small and thrown around, relishing in the feeling of Vale yanking his shirt off and pushing him onto the bed.

Vale strips his own shirt off and Marc moans, staring at the tattoo that set this all in motion. He makes a mental note that he has to get his mouth on it. He needs to taste it. He needs to taste Vale.

He tangles his hands in Vale’s hair again, pulling him down on top of him. Vale’s kisses are filthy; all tongue and teeth and spit. Marc wants it all. He wants Vale to consume him, to fill him, to take everything he wants from him. He wants to belong to Vale.

He moans as Vale bites and sucks at his neck. Vale unties Marc’s joggers and pulls them down, freeing Marc’s hard cock.

“Fuck, Vale, please.”

Vale sits back on his heels and drags his eyes down Marc’s body. He takes in every part of him, heat in his eyes.

“You’re perfect,” Vale says.

Marc feels his cock twitch. Vale runs a hand up Marc’s bare thigh.

“You’re smooth,” he observes. Marc’s cock twitches again. He’s glad Vale is impressed; Marc keeps himself smooth and waxed.

“Vale, please,” Marc begs.

Vale clicks his tongue and pulls his own shorts off, and Marc’s mouth waters at the sight of his cock. Vale has seen his loads of times, but Marc being able to see Vale’s is incredible.

Marc prepped and stretched himself before getting on the flight, so when Vale drags a hand down and presses a finger against his hole he feels no resistance.

Vale groans, low in his throat.

“Marc, you are perfect.”

Marc desperately wants to be perfect for Vale.

“Please,” he begs.

Vale leans down to kiss him, and Marc is so focused on the taste of Vale’s tongue in his mouth that he barely feels the pressure of Vale lining up his cock and pressing it against his hole. He whines as Vale pushes inside him.

The feeling of being inside Marc, finally, drives Vale nearly insane. He has wanted to fuck Marc since he first saw him, and being able to finally have his hands on him, and his cock inside him is nearly enough to drive him insane.

He kisses Marc again and again as he builds up a rhythm, listening to the little punched-out groans Marc makes as Vale fucks into his small tight hairless body.

“Please,” Marc begs, as Vale pulls away for air. A string of spit hangs between their mouths, and Vale wants to devour him.

“Shh, I’ve got you. You’re perfect,” Vale says.

He continues to babble horny nonsense in between sucking on Marc’s tongue. He loves learning the little moans and whimpers that Marc makes when he feels good; Vale wants to spend the rest of his life in this bed.

He can feel his orgasm building, but he wants to last. He pauses his movements, despite the whine Marc lets out at that. He adjusts, folding Marc’s legs up toward his chest. Marc is flexible, a thought which Vale has to file away for later to avoid coming.

Vale starts pounding into him in earnest, groaning and tucking his face into Marc’s neck.

“Fuck, Vale, please. Come in me,” Marc begs.

Vale hadn’t even considered a condom, he realizes. He find himself unbothered, and instead groans at the idea of stuffing Marc with his cum.

“Fuck, yes, okay,” he grunts.

He knows he’s close, so he reaches down to jerk Marc’s cock. Marc is basically crying from overstimulation at this point, and Vale bites his earlobe. He needs to have Marc— all of him. He feels Marc tense, then he shoots his load between their bodies.

Vale follows soon after, hips stuttering as he fills Marc’s hole with his cum. He fucks deep into him, trying to mark the other man’s insides. He wants his cum to stay inside him; to remind Marc who he belongs to as it slowly leaks out of him.

He rolls off to the side of Marc, and Marc wipes their stomachs with the sheet before shoving it away and tugging the duvet on top of them.

Vale pulls him close, and Marc seems surprised and relieved as he throws a leg over one of Vale’s. They’re a little sticky; the sheet only did so much.

“Thank you for letting me come here,” Marc says quietly. Vale kisses him on the forehead, then tangles a hand in his hair.

“I’m glad you’re here. I’m never letting you go.”

[lucianhuntress]

Day 8. Dottore x Reader: 76. “Can I freak out now?”

Yeah, it's vampire!Dottore time because I have no shame. 🙈 I am deep in this hell. Anyway it's placed in my vampire AU I should be writing.

Wine, candles and soft, smooth jazz fill the dim room. The walls and furnishings appear to be antique and the floor is well maintained hardwood. Everything in the room screams of couth and eloquent style.

Only a handful of other coworkers from different departments wear red dresses, like it said on the invitation; those who have worked under a year at the Northland Enterprises must wear red.

“Can I freak out now?” You gasp audibly as you let your eyes wander and take in all of the room— a vishap’s head mounted above a fireplace, exquisite paintings that are certainly old and should belong to a fine art museum hang upon the walls. 

“Sit,” you hear an order and you turn around to see Dottore, who you have only met a couple of times, staring at you with an unreadable expression. His red eyes follow your every step, every swing of the hem of your red dress as you sit down next to him without doubting his orders. He is very much like your boss, Arlecchino, in that sense; there is an unseeable aura that makes you obey.

“I have been watching you,” he begins, “for a quite a while now— mostly because I can hear you across the room.”

Heat rises to your cheeks and eartips. “You must have mistaken me for someone else, I swear I am quiet most of the time.”

“But your heart isn’t,” he hisses as he captures your eyes with his red ones, stares right into you— like he is probing your soul with his. His lips curl into a smile, revealing his sharklike teeth. You can’t pull away, not even if you wanted to; you’re captured in his gaze and afraid to move a muscle. 

“Yes, your heart— it’s like a symphony that irritates me when I try to focus.”

“Sir. I am sorry if that—”

“Quiet,” he snaps and you quickly shut your mouth as ordered. He leans in and you feel his nose brushing your neck, muttering: “so loud and tempting…”

Your pulse quickens and you feel heat pooling down to the rest of your body. This isn’t what you expected from one of the bosses at Northland Enterprises. Surely, he is not your boss, but isn’t this a bit too much and too soon?

He quickly pulls back, satisfied with your neck inspection. Maybe he was concerned about ergonomics? Maybe he saw you sitting like a shrimp in that chair at work and now he just decided to have a closer inspection. That’s what you keep telling to yourself, not letting your mind wander too much.

“Would you mind donating some blood for my… scientific research?” he asks, a tiny smile playing on his lips.

[beyonceisstraight]

Your cat ever get so mad he's basically punching doors??? The litter box litter is low. Which is fine bc it has to be scrubbed. He is mad about that. So he's aggressively and loud as fuck pawing at everything including doors. I got up and was like wtf bro and he stopped. He knew what he was doing. Sir you are not a white person's cat. This is a Caribbean household. Try and have some couth eh.

[fear-is-truth]

(part eight of ENEMIES TO LOVERS. ── jackie (fear-is-truth) x f!reader)

The collaborative writing process went precisely as one might imagine: utter chaos, with an occasional glimpse of something real. You'd start with a sarcastic comment, to which she would respond with an outlandish analogy. Before long, you'd both find yourselves in fits of laughter at 3 A.M., when the fanfiction had veered so far off course that its very coherence seemed laughable.

But, there were other instances--instances that aroused a quick thrum of your pulse--when she would send you drafts that were not just words strung together, but some special composition of . . . smut. Out of nowhere, she would slip in something that made your heart to flutter and miss a beat--a character consumed by desire, not with the couth grace of love, but a frenzy of mutual possession that could have only been quelled by their actual consumption, the absorbing and melding of every fragment of one another's soul and body.

"Do you ever think about how much better it’d be if we just ditched all the plot and went full throttle with the heat?" one evening, she would text.

You looked at the message. The gravity of her plain note was corrupting you. Your heart was a hysterical unreliable organ.

How was it that she always seemed to know which button to press?

You found yourself replying before you could control the impulse: "Always. But only if we get real messy with it." She replied instantaneously: "Messy, huh? Like fingers all tangled up in your hair, lips meeting all wild, breathing hot and heavy. Maybe my hand around your neck while I show you just what happens when things get outta control. Think you can take it?" The word seemed to sear through the wretched computer screen. "You think you could make me beg for it?" you typed back, a slight tremor in your fingers as you pressed the "send" button, the fine motor control compromised by an immediate swell of epinephrine. She did not pause. "I don't think. I know. You'd beg for it the second I put my hands on you, Y/N. Now I'm curious if you'll beg for more, or if I'll have to remind you who's in charge here." — 💋ྀིྀ

oooh things are gonna get heated !!

[arsenalgbt]

Dec being useless at advice because he has a pregnant husband at home AND because he's the worst at giving advice. The man thought calling Kalvin was smart, he's not one for good choices 🫡 Leo is the best one in the group for giving advice, he doesn't understand why Dec and Ben don't come to him more often (neither of them want to burden him, Leo needs to feel useful and cares so much about them but they make it difficult). Also of course I've read the ktrossard a/b/o fic, I've read it a few times! It's the first abo fic I ever actually enjoyed!

Also saw your tags about Willo being a soccer coach and Ben being a soccer mom with a crush AND your tags about Theo being a dilf that Leo was crushing on and all I'm saying is Theo coaching older kids including one of Leo's and Willo having another one of Leo's and Ben's kids in his age group is something I haven't stopped thinking about. Soccer mom au sounds like a blast!

In my semi-abadnoned kttrossard divorce fic, I actually have them attending Nelli's soccer match in the park for the first time and it led to my favourite line ever in a fic I wrote (Context that you don't need but I want to share is Fabi is Jorgi's nephew who Jorgi now has custody over and is super jumpy and recently hit Gabi when he snuck on him)

*** Even now, as they played on opposing teams, Gabi and Fabio seemed to be passing the ball back and forth in an attempt to share with one another. Leo took a breath, mentally preparing himself to go off on whichever parent was stupid enough to yell something at either child***

You can't convince me that soccer mom Leo wouldn't be a protective mamma bear.

UMMM FUCK UR THE SAME ANON WHO SAID U FINALLY UNDERSTOOD THE APPEAL OF OMEGAVERSE???????????? hell yeah!!! im gonna name you KT anon, cuz of obvious reasons ok! pls identify urself as KT anon should u have other non arranged marriage universe plot MUAHAHAHAHAH OMG 👏🏻🫡

now!

soccer mums au being tied to ur divorced!ktrossard au? iktr!!!!!! I mean come on ofc Theo is a DILF

like

when else will you get to see spicy, protective bear soccer mum Leo looking this hella demure? 😭😭😭😭😭 so OOC wtf Leo have some couth!!!

big fucking yes to willo coaching younger age group teeheeeee

SCREAMING THO AT JORGINHO ACCIDENTALLY HITTING NELLI????? old man needs to chill. all I need from u is to sneak in my baby girl reiss as one of the older kids' idk, brother T_T or uncle T_T and he meets Jorginho (it's totally fine if u don't, I will do it in my head myself akshfajdfak lmao). Jorginho likes him, but reiss wants to rizz his so called yute, nelli's mum :D

also FABINELLI building up their luv since young age................

[darlinglotys]

He found me

______________________________________________________________

warings: stalking, threatning, no use of Y/N, you/yours, use of nicknames, swaring, mentioned kidnapping, mentiond feminyzation, gramer mistakes, mentioned murderer ______________________________________________________________

Readers POV

im not sure when i first saw Jester. Was it when i first moved here? or when he came to order coffie or perhaps... no thets not posible he couldnt have been there but still he doues fit the little description we had tall and with unrully brown hair no what im i thinking a lot of man much this discription. But he still feels fami-"____!" "huh?!" "whats going thrue thet head of yours sweetheart" "please dont cell me thet" "sure~" i sight as i shook my head before asking "the usuall?" "not today" thet suprised me a bit espeshally the fact thet he sed it calmly insted of his usual flirtyness "what do you recomend Darling" "ah there it is" i touth to myself before speaking "then i recomend (F/D) and i told you to not call me thet" "you didnt" "i did" "did not you sed not to cell you sweetheart" i gave him the im done with you look "well just call me by my name you alredy know it "as you wish" i gave him his drink before i moved to serve other costomers once i returned to where he was seated. The seat was allredy empty with some money left on the table i shook my head as i took the money and cleened up the table as i continued with my day. And soon enough my shift ended and i could go home. As i was locking up i couth a glims of goldish white mask and quicly tournd around only to see an empty street "fuck" i swore quaietly to myself as i started speed walking home trying to act like nothigs wrong until i saw my house and started sprinting i quickly unlooked the door walked in and shut them bihained me "fuuck" i sed in a shaky voise "guess Im moving again" i continued as i toured the light on in my kitchen "hi~" came a rather ethuastic voice from bihand me "i finaly found you~" how long?" i tournd around only to be met with a Jesters mask "oh dont look at me like thet" i could hear the pount in his voice moking me "how. long."i repided myself firmly with venom seeping thour my teath "oh how firce are you~ but to answer our question long enough for you to know how to make my coffie by heart by the way you own a really nice caffe would be a real shame if it had to close down if the owner was to disapire or its costemers were i dont know founed death just next door every single one one ofter a nother" "what. do. you. want." "calm down darling you dont want to repite the incident now do you" "answer the fucking question" "alride~ alride~ its quait simple really i want you but~" " but what some kind of a nother twisted game of yours?" " no no i mean i allredy tried and i can continue but no mather how patient im i just cant wait thet long for you to come to me willingly so i want a compromaise" "and why woul i agree to thet?" "simple becouse i wont kill anyone thet you interact with and you can keep your freedom" "your laying you just want me to drop my gaurd so you can kidnapp me" "oh darlin no if i wanted to kidnapp you i would allredy done so" "asshole and what will you get out of this" "hmm how about i will get to sleep in the same bed as you and i will get to dress you once a week im sure a nice green dress would look good on you~" "no way!" "fine fine i wont dress you" he singed disapointedly "the fact thet you want to shere a bed is even worse!" i yeled at him "let go of me!" i yelped as he thrue me over his shoulder "i sed let go!" i hit his back as hard as i could making him hiss " come on sweetheart its not like this is the first time we slept in a same bed" "you what!?" " dont worry i wont touch you inaproprietly not withount your concent at least now of to bed you go" he thrue me on the bed before joining me "let go!" i tried to get out of his grip " let go god dam-" "shh~" he covered my mouth "sleep"

[dulcevenganzaa]

perhaps i might be projecting a little bit but it's a little weird to like, see the way people talk about strangers online when they know they can see it

[askaalaska-vdeppressed]

Kids and Coffee Dates Ch:2

Masterlist

Eskel slowed the bike as he pulled into the drive that consisted of a dusty path. He almost passed it as it was flanked on either side by mass quantities of lilac bushes. The full brush and flowers making the path near impossible to see until you were right on it. The type of driveway that you could only turn fast onto if you had done it many many times.

Eskel killed the engine on the bike and parked it next to the house, following the driveway on foot as it curved around to the back. The house looked old. Not in a weathered sense, more like historic.  As he rounded the corner he was greeted with a garage, door open to allow the pleasant breeze to waft through. Sat inside-- opposite a car— was quiet possible the most stunning woman Eskel had ever seen. The fact that see was covered in sweat and dirt didn’t faze him. The light that was drifting into the garage from the morning sun reflected off the car making her shine. Glittering in the sun like a fine cut diamond. She was engrossed in typing an email on her phone, mouth open and tongue poking out slightly. After a few more steps, and some dreamy gazing on Eskel’s part, she noticed him out of her peripherals.

“Hey, you must be….. Eskel right?” She stood up, wiping her hand on her shorts before sticking it out for him to shake.

“Yeah you got it right. I’m at the right place then?” The woman shook Eskel’s with more gusto than he’d expected.

“Correct. I’m y/n, welcome to my little ranch. Common, let me show you the money makers.” As you turned to lead the way Eskel got a glorious view of you ass as you walked away. His brain having to take a second and reboot before his legs starting moving to follow.

‘the goats, she’s talking about the goats, the buck, lil bleater remember’ Eskel thought to himself, taking a breath to will away the less than couth ideas that were popping into his head. Y/n lead him down a path, woods shrouding it and stray stems and roots making the path less than smooth. You walked it with grace and ease, probably practiced more than a million times. It wasn’t long before Eskel heard the telltale sound of bleats and hooves knocking against various hard surfaces. The path opened to reveal a large fenced in space, a literal goat playground inside, with a barn attached to the back of the pasture.  

“So tell me about your little lady” Y/n stopped and leaned against the fence to watch the animals frolic around.

“Her name’s Lil’ Bleater” Eskel’s statement was met with giggles from you.

“Sorry, just, I’m already in love” Y/n shook her head playfully, gazing out on the pasture once more.

‘So am I’ Eskel thought.

“Uhhh, I’ve had her since she was newborn, raised her by hand. I wanted to breed her because she’s all by herself all the time, and any other goats I’ve tried putting in with her she abhors.”  

“If she was never socialized with other goats, I can imagine” You said, gesturing for Eskel to follow you to the barn.

“But she’s good with people then?”

“Well shes’s fine with everyone but my brother but, uh, lets say the feelings are mutual between them” A bemused laugh escaped you as Eskel recalled Lambert and Bleaters sordid relationship.

You lead him past the barn into—to Eskel slight amazement—another fenced pasture.

“Damn, how much land you got here?”

“10 acres, though everything you haven’t already seen is forest”

This fenced in area was much smaller and further away from the barn. It housed two goats happily grazing near one another.

“These are my two boys, they get along surprisingly well together.” As Eskel and Y/n neared the fence the two goats made there way over, both seeking affection. Eskel started petting the smaller of the two, the goat licking his palm and butting it’s head against his hand.

“That’s Killroy, he’s the more aggressive of my boys. This gentle giant over here is Ash” Y/n scratched in between the horns of the large white goat.

“I usually don’t keep the boys separated from the ladies like this, but I’m gonna try my hand at making cheese this fall and I read keeping them together makes the milk taste goat-y”

“Goat-y”

“Listen that’s what the website said alright”  The pair of them laughed at the exchange. Eskel couldn’t take his eyes off the way that y/n’s eyes shined when she was happy. He also couldn’t help but notice the way your chest moved as you caught your breath. Tits heaving as you fought with the humid spring air. Eskel had to be broken at this blatant ogling of you breasts by Killroy nibbling on his fingers.

“So uhh which one?” Eskel said slightly out of breath, not entirely due to the humidity.

“Well if your little lady is as bull headed as you say I’d go with Ash, choice is entirely up to you, but Ash is real laid back. He tries to make himself as inoffensive at all times. I swear I should rename him shaggy, but a friend named him for me and if I changed it she’d kill me.”

Eskel was only half-listening as he began to think of the logistics of this whole operation.

“So uhhhh how does all this work exactly?”

“Well this is my first time whoring out one of my boys, but I figured—since you rode in on a bike and all—I would bring him to you.”

You lead Eskel back to the house, retreaving your phone where you had left it in the garage.

“Here” You stuck out your phone to Eskel, an open contact already started with his name and a goat emoji. Eskel typed in his information and handed the phone back. You quickly typed a message out to him. A minute later his phone buzzed.

It’s Y/n <):)

“Just text me when’s a good time and what boy you’d like me to bring over.”

“sure thing”

With that Eskel turned and headed back to his bike. He was about to start it and leave when you walked quickly around the corner. You walked straight up to him, stopping abruptly before taking a deep breath.

“Soo I kinda live my life by this policy that were on this Earth too short a time to not do the things we want. I thought it’d be fun to own a goat farm so I did it. You miss all of the shot you don’t take and all that and well…….ummmm… are you single?”

Eskel sat there in stunned silence for a brief moment before an airy nervous laugh escaped his mouth. A smile forcing it’s way onto his face. The repaired pieces of his lips pulling awkwardly on his face.

“Yeah yeah I am” He averted his gaze downward to hide how giddy he felt.

“So there’s this coffee shop in town, would you maybe wanna meet there sometime” Y/n’s hands were wringing together, her nerves clearly showing. Afraid that Eskel would say no.

“How’s Friday?”

“Friday works!” Y/n let out a sigh of relief.  Eskel turned on the bike, a roar emitting from the engine.

“See ya then” He raised his voice to be heard over the noise. A smile making itself a permanent addition while he looked at you.

As he pulled out onto the road he felt like speeding like a maniac. Hoping it would someone make Friday come faster.

[hoe-imaginess]

I’m so glad to see your box is open again! I’ve seen some other blogs do this and thought it was really funny lol, so what do you think some sexual “bad habits” are from the LoV and Overhaul? Like things they do that are cringe/gross/off-putting lol

LOLLLL

Shigaraki has absolutely no couth whatsoever. He's just... RUDE. Will cum in you without asking, and when you complain he's just like *shrugs* “just finger it out, you'll be fine”

He also scratches you up, almost as bad as he scratches himself. It's like he's trying to get under your skin??? Wtf is he doing?? It hurts and it's not sexy at all and it leaves horrendous marks

Dabi will probably spit in your mouth if you give him the chance, sorry. He also bites, a lot. Like really hard. He doesn't even bite you to be a tease, he just bites to bite. You'll have to pry him off if you don’t want him to make you bleed. He also forgets about condoms (lbr he forgets on purpose). If you don't remind him, he will absolutely not put one on

Mr. Compress never shuts up. His dirty talk isn't even dirty talk. It would be kinda hot if he actually said sexy stuff to get you going…. but he doesn't. It’s so cringe; such a mood-killer

As for Overhaul, uhmmm it's debatable he would even have sexual habits since sex=physical contact=germs, so... he may not be interested. That being said, he'd obviously be horribly nit-picky about your hygiene if you two did have sex. Like, sorry!!! But he’s never going to be a giver!!! You’re not getting any head from him and he’s not about to put his fingers anywhere inside you where he can’t be absolutely 100% sure you’re clean. You just…. never get to cum, unless you finish yourself off

Literally just don’t have sex with Overhaul it’s terrible. You get nothing out of it

[marshmallowprotection]

Cygnus

Pairing: Saeyoung/Eunji [CMC]

Description: Eunji spent her entire life always afraid to commit to something. She would fly close to the sun and let her fear take over her heart before she'd get to touch it. This fear enveloped her life for such a long time that she didn't know how to else. But, when she met Seven on that first day, it was like she couldn't turn away. She was bound to face him. Even if her heart didn't know how to handle what was to come. 

For @im-the-mystic-messenger​’s Holiday Gift Exchange. Gift for @gureishi​! I had a lot of fun working with Eunji since it’s been a while since I’ve written a story for a Seven CMC. I hope this captures everything that it’s supposed to, though! The time spent in the closed apartment is something that is difficult for anyone to manage, and it's harder when you have to confront your demons.

[Read On AO3]

“You’re with the one you—”

“Shut up!”

The shattered remains of Meowy rest against the ground, forgotten and abandoned as Seven’s gaze lingered on Eunji. It felt like the room had somehow become smaller. The apartment was suddenly a box that had no exits or windows to retreat to. It was by design. They couldn’t leave this space for their own good but it was driving them up a wall. He was walking a thin line by a wildfire and she was teetering on the edge of the cliff.

The universe might have wanted them to think that they couldn’t be any further apart than they were at that moment. But Eunji knew that couldn’t be the case. It might have been that they were living through different natural disasters but those events were tied together and interlocked in a way that neither of them could deny. Even as much as Seven wanted to bite his tongue and yell at her that they couldn’t have been any more different.

Inside of her chest, she knew that they were one and the same, no matter what anyone said about it. She just knew. It was like a clenching inside of her heart that couldn’t be ignored. It demanded to be felt. It didn’t matter if she wanted to turn away from it. Feelings demanded to be felt. They were a part of the human experience. There was a frown on her lips as she carefully nudged all of the broken pieces of Meowy back together again. He had turned his back on her but she wouldn’t turn on him.

“You didn’t have to go that far,” she said. It was like the slip of the tongue. She hadn’t meant to say it aloud but she wasn’t the most couth about things. Eunji had spent days walking on shells and broken glass left by the remains of what the hacker—no, Saeran’s—arrival and subsequent disappearance had left in its wake. “You’re better than that.”

His breath was hot in his lungs as he did his best to glower at her, trying his damnedest to seem tall, “How many times do I have to tell you, Eunji?! I’ve told you over and over but you don’t listen to a word I say at all! Is all you hear out of me what you want me to say?! The person that you think you like— the smiling idiot in the chatroom that pretends to be a good-for-nothing clown—that’s not me. That isn’t ever going to be me! It was all lies, stupid lies, pranks, masks that I created! I am a filthy liar, nothing more, nothing less!”

“I don’t think you’re a liar, Seven,” her voice strangely quiet in comparison to the back and forth matches that they’ve had over the past couple of days in this apartment. “There’s a difference in this world between lying because you want to do it for self-gain and because you have to do it or your world is at risk. You haven’t had a choice, right? That doesn’t make you filth. Fine, a liar if you want, but not filth..”

“Get some fucking self-preservation, pussycat. Do you know how many people have said that about guys like me and ended up dead? Too many to count right now. You don’t have any idea what you’re playing at! I don’t— It’s one thing to play the sweet saint that sees good in the most sinful bastard, but that’s going to be what gets you killed if you aren’t careful! Don’t you think at all?! My God, you were willing to walk into an apartment after getting catfished!”

“I’m not gullible enough to think that I can handle every threat out there, Seven. But I can handle myself a lot better than you think I can!”

His laughter this time is a bitter sound, almost as if he’s on the brink of tears or losing control of himself right in front of her. He raked a hand through his messy red curls as he tried. God, he’d been trying, but he was lashing out at every turn. He was pushing back against Eunji every time he got the chance. He was deflecting and trying to run away from her as fast as he could. Those looks in his golden eyes were something that she knew very well.

It was a feeling that she’d held in her eyes many times. She knew that look. It was like being the cornered cat in an alleyway that had messed with the wrong dog. You couldn’t find your way in that dark space to look for an opening to leave. The only thing that you could do was to think as fast as you could, regardless of what it meant when you made your great escape, knowing that it was better to be bruised instead of dead.

Eunji knows what it feels like to run.

That is to say, she knows the feeling of being afraid of feeling confined that there’s no choice left but to run, and this sensation is one that she wouldn’t readily choose for herself or wish onto the people that she hated the most. It’s messy, it’s painful, and it leaves you gasping for air that you may not be able to breathe again. Her lungs always threaten to close when this happens. It’s suffocating to live knowing that tomorrow may not be the same as the day before, but that’s always been her biggest fear, huh?

There’s a voice in the back of her head saying that maybe, just maybe, the reason why she’s in this situation in the first place is that it’s payback for the heartache and destruction that she’d given to those that only wanted to love her outright. It’s a bitter whisper that sounds like her voice but not quite. It’s something deep-seated inside of her chest that reminds her of something that she wants to ball up and throw away. But, she can’t throw it away when it’s in front of her, now, can she?

She’s been shoved away from others that once cared for her plenty of times. It was because their patience and kindness ran out time and time again. Her fear of being trapped or being forced into something that she wasn’t ready for caused her to lash out and hurt others in ways that she would regret later on; but, at the moment? She wouldn’t think twice about acting a certain way to make people go away because she didn’t know how else to cope with it.

Those feelings were like a rockslide waiting to happen. It seemed as though she was always waiting for a storm of rocks to come tumbling down on top of her at any moment. How could she not fear that very conclusion when every single relationship she’d witnessed when she needed to know some kind of stability crumbled to rumble right in front of her eyes? She saw her mother and father crash and burn in a chaotic string of discontent and then as she grew older, she saw that the relationships that she had created do the very same thing.

Eunji acted on impulse. It was the way that she knew how to live. She could roll with the punches and make sense of them later because there was no other choice. However, now that she was here in front of Seven, she could see her emotions and actions reflected tenfold. She was seeing a mirror of her past, present, and future. Except, this time, she had a choice to decide what she wanted to do with her life. It felt like in the past, the lump in her throat caused her to never think things through to the end.

Yet, when she saw Seven standing in front of her with the same charged look in his eyes that she’d seen reflected in the eyes of her loved ones so many times, Eunji realized something that she might not have in the past. Something that nobody else had seen when she was lashing out and crying for help. What she saw wasn’t selfishness, stubbornness, or self-destructiveness. She didn’t hear those words hissed in the back of her head that claimed she was an idiot.

What Eunji saw in his eyes was fear, insecurity, and shame.

A cry for help that he was trying to hide behind walls that he couldn’t put back up no matter how many times he tried to put it back together.

Truly, no matter how many times he added more dead leaves to the fire that scorched his heart, he was never going to be able to hide what Eunji saw in his golden eyes. Even as she held tightly to the cliff ledge where the rocks were tumbling on top of her by the minute, she could see him burning alive on the top of the edge. She didn’t want to watch it happen in real-time when she could do something.

It was frightening to feel this strongly, so much so that she still felt the dry ache in the back of her throat from crying until she could no longer feel the sting of tears in her eyes; Rather, the coldness of the shower water that had been running for far too long. As Eunji stared into Saeyoung’s eyes, all she knew was that she had to stop running away from everything. If she didn’t stop to breathe and think things through, her fingers were going to slip from the rocks and she’d finally fall to the ground just as she had started to feel as though she wanted to climb back up.

Charged by that statement, Seven was quick to make a move. Eunji gasped—he moved to push her back against the ground, which wasn’t hard given that she was still seated against the carpet— and with her arms pinned above her head, she had nowhere to go except with him. His eyes twisted and complicated, hard to get a read on. “Is that so? You’re not gullible? Do you know what kind of sick and twisted things someone could do to you when you have an attitude like that? Why would you want that for yourself?!”

She shifted uncomfortably, but kept her eyes locked on his, “Because… I know that you’d never do something like that to me, Seven. You can warn me all day that there are bad guys out there, but I’m damn sure that you’re not one of those people. You’ve been looking out for me from the start. It’s not even just me, either, you’re constantly looking out for and supporting the others. I don’t like you because you’re some kind of mask, Seven. I like you because you’re you, Seven. I know you’re more than the mask.”

Silence washed over them. Neither Eunji nor Seven said anything right away, rather they looked at each other as if speaking without saying a  single word. There was a story in this mess to be told but one that couldn’t easily be opened. It was locked away behind years of grime and rust that caked the locks that hid them. Eunji closed her eyes briefly but when she did, she felt the splash of tears against her cheeks.

When she looked at Seven again, she found herself looking at a man that could hardly hold himself together as it was. His grip slowly loosened on her wrist but he couldn’t bring himself to find any energy to pull himself away from her… all he had were the tears that remained as his mask started to crack all at once.

His voice was raw, “How… How many times do I have to tell you, kitten? I can’t be with you. We can’t be together, Eunji, ever. Everything that surrounds me… all of it. It’s all just an illusion that will go away someday, and I’ll be gone with it. All traces of me will disappear one day, and you’ll be left with nothing. Even if all of you… all of the RFA… embrace the mask of 707 as he is, he’ll be gone sooner than you thought you knew him. You don’t have any idea who I am. Don’t act like you do. Just leave me alone before you get burned… leave me alone, Eunji, I’m begging you.”

Eunji reached up with her hands, firmly affirmed in what she was doing, cupping his face in her hands as gently as she could. Her thumbs wiped away a few of the stray tears. “Please, help me so I understand who you are, then. Let me embrace the real you. I don’t want to run away, Seven. For the first time in my life, I don’t want to run away from somebody I love dearly… I just want to be able to know the real you.”

It was as if Eunji could see over the edge of the cliff again. Her hands rubbed raw by the years of clinging to the stone, bloodied and bruised, but at the same time, strong and calloused by being able to understand how long she could survive despite the pain. She was reaching out for him as best she could, knowing that if he took the risk, he would be able to take a step away from the fire that surrounded him.

“Eunji, if I can’t even protect my one and only brother when I dedicated my life completely to his happiness, then how can I ever be enough to protect you? I’ve given it up before, all of it, and look where I am. I don’t want you to live this life. I don’t want you to end up like Saeran… like me… like this… fire that won’t stop trying to destroy me until I have the guts to admit that I’ll never be good enough to protect anyone?” His voice cracked as he spoke, unable to make its way through the hole in his chest.

“Seven, I can handle myself as long as you’re by my side,” Eunji whispered. The sound of her soft breathing eating at the words. “I don’t care how complicated it gets.”

Funny, she thought. In the past, she would’ve been so petrified of admitting that to anyone she loved.

“Eunji,” his pained voice almost pleaded with her to give up. “Please. Don’t do this to me. Please… I can’t. I… I cherish you. There’s nothing I want more than to make you happy, but I can’t! I just can’t do it! Why would you want this? Why would you want this lock without a key to open it up? What’s… wrong with you… what’s… wrong with me? Why can’t you take a hint and leave before it’s too late? What are you going to do if somebody hurts you because of me…?”

“Seven,” Eunji stressed. Her voice was as firm as she could manage.  She didn’t want to hold him too close because it might scare him away. Hell, it was making her heartbeat so fast that she felt like she was going to be sick, too. It was so much, but she simply couldn’t take living like this anymore. He couldn’t, either. Sooner or later, this had to come to an end. “I’m never going to regret my feelings for you. I mean it… I mean it.”

“...You shouldn’t say that so easily to me,” he whispered. It seemed like he was confused as if those feelings were chipping away at him every second he thought about her words. He was speaking his thoughts out loud, more so than he was saying anything to Eunji. “Damn, why are you doing this? Why are you putting my heart through this now? I told myself… to never get close to anyone… but you’re… you’re trying to put out the fire… I… what am I supposed to do?”

Eunji wrapped her arms around his neck briefly, catching the scent of cinnamon and honey against his throat before she pulled away. Seven sat back as she scooted away from him for his sake. “Take a moment… take as long as you need. Take some time to think, Seven. I want you to choose whatever you want because you want it, not because you feel like you have no choice.”

So, Seven sat there on the floor, a faraway look in his eyes as he lowered his gaze. It seemed like a step in the right direction if anything. But it was hard to say what he felt with how backward things had been in the apartment. He clarified after Eunji rose to head towards the kitchen to grab herself something to drink after that, as well as give him some space to breathe, “I need time.”

“I’ll wait,” Eunji replied, her head tipped against her shoulder as she looked back at him to see that lost look in his eyes. Her heart was pounding against her chest but she was doing what she could to avoid crying at that moment. It felt like she had hit something hard after swinging at nothing for so long. She’d struck close to the truth but how long could that hold out?  “As long as it takes.”

“...Thank you.”

[howimproper]

For Qingming x Boya. Qingming slowly changing Boyas mind about demons

So, this went in an unexpected direction but I can't say I don't love it 😂

A Road Less Travelled

When Qing Ming had contacted him via magic ear to set up a rendezvous, Boya hadn't thought in a million years that it would go this way.

Typically, it's to join forces for a hunt, (Boya is convinced this is no more than an excuse however, because those hunts are always well within Qing Ming's ability) or instances gaining in frequency simply to catch each other up on their lives. To share in a companionship that grew quickly and terrifyingly as easy as breathing. 

Boya is not adverse in either case. 

With the death of the Empress, Boya's life had changed exponentially. His presence in the palace or even Imperial City itself required less and less until he is eventually finding himself sent far and wide. It's not only him, he knows. His sect was created and maintained to protect the palace from the threat of demons and spirits alike, and just because the Evil Serpent housed within the deceased Empress is no more for a time, does not mean other threats do not exist. As the head of the sect and arguably its best warrior, Boya is no stranger to his skills being in constant demand- however his superiors willingness to grant so many requests is...new. 

Boya can't decide if they're trying to get rid of him, or are simply uncertain of what to do with him and his unexpected fame at being one of the main hands that dealt with the rise of the Evil Serpent and, by happenstance, the death of their nations ruler. Do they lord him as a hero, or an unwitting traitor quickly swept under the rug? 

Never mind that the Empress had seen to her own demise. Boya has, and never will, understand nor enjoy politics. He much prefers the simplicity of wandering village to village to city to countryside in search of his next quarry. Less politics, less complication. He has grown used to and learned to embrace the isolation, and emphatically ignores the pangs of loneliness he certainly does not feel when he is surrounded by people who do not know him or his mind. 

He most certainly does not look forward to the warming of the magic ear he had gifted Qing Ming, or the smooth, almost playful cadence of his voice when he is contacted at random for reasons innocuous or intent. And he most definitely does not drop everything he happens to be doing at the time to indulge the other guardians whims. That would be irresponsible of him, not to mention undignified. 

Except sometimes he does and he's not even sorry, what is wrong with him. 

It has only been a handful of short months since the last time he'd dropped everything to find his feet taking him to a quiet lakeside home near a far away mountain. Not long at all since he'd indulged in the tranquillity and ease of the only presence he'd found that did not raise his hackles or feel like the weight of chains on his shoulders. Boya is self aware enough to know that he is not a people person. He has the skills, as all those born amongst the elite do- but he has long since grown too abrasive, too direct from long years spent honing his body instead of his tongue to be comfortable rubbing shoulders with self important nobles or braggart so called intellectuals masquerading as scholars. 

Once, when he was younger and blinder to the truth of the world he dwelt in, he might have been more suited to opulent surroundings and the couth if hollow companionship of the equally sheltered and stupid. But then his mother had been torn from him, and he'd become more austere, rough, jaded. Not consumed, but definitely intent on ideas of revenge and self righteous anger at the being responsible for the death of his innocence. As he'd grown in body, skill and mind however, Boya had honed those qualities into a fine weapon that he aimed mercilessly at not just the one, but the whole of demonkind. 

Boya has hated demons for so long, that when faced with the man who was for all intents and purposes his opposite, he had found the control he sweat and bled for crumbling to dust between his fingers, and he had lashed out. 

He still doesn't know, to this day, what stayed his blade throughout the infancy of that acquaintanceship. Whether it was the presence of his fellows or the weight of the task they all shouldered- until eventually time and exposure had ever so slowly smoothed reflexive hackles, if only enough for him to notice the quiet, sombre air of understanding that permeated often short and prickly interactions. 

Only for those hackles to stand straight back up with every instance of sympathy or outright regard for the beings that exist purely as cruel thorns in Boya's soul. At every sign that this man prefers the company of beasts, kin of half of his blood.

Boya hates demons as surely as the sky is blue and his heart beats within his chest, but against all conceivable reason, Boya can't hate Qing Ming. 

When he tries, Boya just finds that he hates himself. 

Against all logic, it was only the passing of days that tempered him to the man's presence. Barely moments in time that gently uncoiled the tight grip of his ire until he found himself beset with an inexplicable sense of kinship that brought nothing but confusion in its wake and made every attempt at rebuke reflexive and half hearted at best. Until they stopped all together and Boya instead found himself drawn in ways he'd never before experienced. Until for the first time in his life, he'd turned the weapon crafted from the bleeding edges of his stone heart to protect an existence he'd spent longer hating than living. 

At first, he told himself he did it out of duty. There were a great many lives threatened in the City, in the world, and he would fulfil the purpose he'd curved into himself gladly and with a small, quiet relief. But that had only been part of the reason, and it had taken some long months of separation and reflection before he'd realised it. Then some further time spent agonising over the ambivalent nature of the realisation, and a few shameful nights spent trying to drown it. Boya is not known for seeking life's answers at the bottom of a bottle, but if there is one existence that can drive him to it, it is probably Qing Ming's. 

He can't decide if his eventual acceptance of the matter was brought about by lowered inhibitions or the regretful insight one experiences only during the first moments one opens their eyes to a truly magnificent hangover. Mayhaps he simply grew tired of waking up face down on or sprawled half under a drinking table in some out of the way inn room he’d stomped into at some ungodly hour. 

Honestly Boya thinks he probably shouldn’t drink at all. His constitution for it in excess seems to leave much to be desired. He can’t be good at everything, he supposes. A realization he is endlessly glad to have come upon alone. Gods forbid he be prone to acts not of his character whilst sober, (if he had had company Boya is of the mind that he might have bemoaned the sorry state of his life in a most undignified manner and he swears never to drink again. It’s only a short while later that he makes a liar of himself and wakes with the indentation of bamboo and regret pressed into his brow.)

The occasional presence of his dizi on the table leads him to think he might be either a whimsical or maudlin drunk. All the more reason to avoid it, (he hasn’t received any complaints yet, so at least he does it well quietly, aish.) 

He is not pining. He isn’t. 

And if he’d come to an abrupt halt in the middle of a busy street to many startled or annoyed protests the first time the magic ear he’d given to Qing Ming had warmed, no one needed to know, because Boya will take it to his grave. 

It’s a process of years, but it is, regardless, a process. One Boya hadn’t much fought against after those first few nights spent agonising over it with the taste of wine sharp on his tongue. The fact that it came about even without the confusing presence of Qing Ming there to turn his life upside down resigns Boya to the belief that he is indeed quite pathetic, all told. 

Still, he always answers, and still, he always eagerly goes where bid. 

Boya wishes he could hate it. 

Never more especially than the first time he meets a demon picking wildflowers of all things on an overgrown road obviously less travelled, (a small, unwashed slip of a thing in the guise of a child, with eyes too big when they’d met his and small, girlish hands clenching in fright around green stems) and lets it go. 

He’d grasped the hilt of the blade carried at his back, fully intending to draw it when, inexplicably, he’d been taken in by the fear in its- her eyes and felt not like a righteous man, but a demon himself.

What is wrong with him.  

He tells no one, and drinks himself into a stupor the next night. He ignores the wildflowers he finds outside his door the next morning. 

It’s all Qing Ming’s fault. Him with his ridiculous exquisite robes and that stupid fan he hides those mischivous attractive smiles behind. Gods, he’s pathetic. 

“Is this where your friend is waiting, Mr. Boya?” Small hands grasp and tug on the sleeve of his travel cloak, and Boya resigns himself, once again, to the lack of urge to shake them off. 

“Mn.” He grunts in reply, and the little girl trailing at his side like some misshapen duckling beams, wildflowers in her hair. 

How the mighty have fallen, he thinks as he weaves a path through the small village towards the tea house he’d been informed to meet at, freshly washed and happily bouncing demon child following at his heels. He has gone from mercilessly slaying demons to throwing the cute ones at someone always too happy to take them. 

Divine Lord take him, he is so pathetic.  

[daisy-day-dreams]

A/N: Hey everybody! Here’s part two of Little Lies! I hope you all enjoy and please let me know what you think 💖

Little Lies Masterlist

Word Count: 1,728

*gif not mine*

Annie finished blending out the golden eye shadow in the crease of Delilah’s eyelids. She stepped back checking her work to make sure everything was even before telling her she could open her eyes once more. She then pulled out a tube of mascara and began carefully applying it to her eyelashes.

The two had come over to Lyla and Opie’s home to help the bride get ready for her big day. While they waited for her to finish showering they worked on getting ready themselves.

“So,” She spoke up breaking the silence in the room, “are you nervous?”

“For what? I’m not the one getting married.” Delilah knew her sister was talking about seeing Juan, Juice she corrected herself, for the first time in a little over ten years, a whole decade which sounded insane to her. Just as she hadn’t talked about it she didn’t really want to think about it either.

“You know for what.” Annie put the mascara away and sat back against the counter in the spare bathroom. She stared Delilah down until she looked back up at her. Crossing her arms over her chest she waited for a response.

“Why would I be nervous?” Delilah repeated. “It was years ago that we broke up. We were just kids Annie. I think we’ve both moved on from then.”

He hasn’t Annie thought. “He broke your heart, sis. You may have blocked it out but I didn’t.” She reminded her as if she needed to be reminded of the painful break up between them. “Heartache like that always stays with you. He was your first love, your first everything. I’m just worried seeing him is going to bring all that back up.”

Juice crushed Delilah’s heart and with it her spirit. She just didn’t want her sister having to go through that again. She deserved so much better than what this cruel world had given her.

“I’m fine Annie.” Delilah reached out grabbing Annie’s hand in hers. “I promise. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“I always worry about you, just like you worry about me. Telling me I don’t have to won’t stop me from doing so.” Annie pointed out.

“Yeah, well I’m your big sister. It’s my job to worry.”

Annie could read everything in Delilah’s eyes as she said that. She knew she was just as worried about her. She knew her sister blamed herself for what happened back home, but it wasn’t her fault, she had no reason to carry such guilt.

If anyone should be guilty it was Annie for dragging her into her mess.

Annie couldn’t stand the silence, she couldn’t stand the unspoken things she was reading all over Delilah’s features. Changing the subject from her like she was so skilled at, she turned the focus back onto Delilah. “Will you also promise me you’re not going to just jump right back into things with Juan?”

She saw the look in Juice's eyes when he found out Delilah was here too. He still loved her and Annie knew deep down Delilah still loved him too.

That was what worried her the most.

Sometimes Delilah felt like Juice broke her younger sister’s heart more than hers. They were both close with him, Annie spent just as much time with the two of them. He was their escape from home and they were his escape. Once he left it was harder to ignore their reality.

“We are both different people now and plus for all I know he’s seeing someone.”

“He’s not.” Annie watched Delilah trying to read her reaction. She was testing her, trying to determine just how bad things could get again.

“Like I said, it’s been years.” Delilah forced a smile. “I don’t even know who he is anymore Annie. There’s nothing to jump back into because we aren’t those kids anymore.”

Annie decided she would drop it, for now. She would trust that her sister would keep her distance. She was just worried as soon as she saw him at the party that everything else would be forgotten and she’d be sucked back into that young love.

Young love was such a bitch after all.

“Have you thought about seeing deputy Cane again?” Maybe bringing up the opportunity for new love would give Delilah a new focus for her heart.

Delilah shook her head with a laugh. “That would imply that I’ve already gone out with him once, which I have not.”

“Then what would you call your little coffee date?”

“It was just coffee, once.” Delilah emphasized. The one outing was the only time she had seen him outside of work. When they first moved to town deputy Cane was one of the first few people she had met. He offered to introduce her to the town over coffee which she politely accepted. It wasn’t a date, at least not to her. “And it wasn’t a date.”

“Really?” Annie put her supplies back into her bag. “Then why did you get all dolled up?” She teased.

“I didn’t get all dolled up. I wore the same thing as I would for any other outing with any other person.”

“Yeah, my favorite top.” Annie grumbled. “Which you still haven’t returned.”

Delilah stood up stretching some on her way. She rolled her eyes, it’s not like Annie hadn’t been “borrowing” her shit for years now. “That favorite top of yours is actually mine anyways but if it’s such a big deal you can have it. Now sit and let me fix your hair.”

Annie switched places with Delilah taking a seat on the kitchen stool they had brought in. Ever since she could remember this was their routine for any special events. Delilah would do their hair and Annie their makeup.

“I just want some loose waves.” She met Delilah’s eyes through the mirror. Delilah had found her place behind her and had begun brushing her hair out. The feeling brought Annie comfort, relaxing her even. It always reminded her of when their mother would fix her hair. “Just something simple.”

“Okay.” Delilah gave her a smile. She then began getting to work with her curling iron.

A few moments of silence passed as both girls retreated to their thoughts. Delilah finished up with a spritz of hairspray once she was finished brushing out the curls before laying Annie’s long dark locks back over her shoulder.

“You’re all set.” She examined her younger sister proudly. She looked amazing as she always did but that’s not all that Delilah noticed. She had watched her sister really blossom back into the woman she knew the past few months. Annie was strong, the strongest person she knew, that’s what made seeing what Brian had done to her, how he had changed her sister, so much harder to witness. “You look beautiful.”

“Good,” Annie commented as she checked her reflection, “because a bitch is getting laid tonight.” And she knew exactly who she had her sights on.

“Of course that’s what you’re thinking about.” Delilah laughed. “I swear you’re worse than the guys where you work sometimes.”

“What else are weddings for if not for some memorable hook ups?”

“Who’s hooking up with who?” Opie interrupted the two poking his head into the room on his way by.

“You’re not supposed to be here.” Delilah playfully scolded him.

“I had to get my shit, thought I’d wear my clean socks for the big day.” He grinned repeating what he had told Lyla just a minute ago when she had said the same thing. He had his bag in hand and was just heading out to go get ready himself now that he had his things.

“How very couth of you.” Annie piped in. “You didn’t see the bride did you?” She raised her eyebrow. “You know what they say.”

“Yeah well I don’t believe in all that superstitious crap.” Opie remarked. “Plus it’s not like I saw anything. In fact I didn’t see enough.”

“That’s what the honeymoon is for.” Delilah smirked. “Now come on, you’re not welcome here right now.”

“It’s my own damn house,” Opie chuckled as Delilah ushered him to the door.

“And you will be welcomed back later after the wedding when you carry your wife over the threshold.” She told him. “And then screw her senseless.”

Opie stopped at the doorway. He turned around to look at her as it all started to set in. The day they had been waiting for was finally here. “I’m getting married today.” He said in almost disbelief. “I’m getting married today.” He repeated, smiling ear to ear as it fully hit.

“Yes you are.” Delilah grinned. She hoped some day her future husband would be just as excited as Opie was to be getting married. “You’re not getting cold feet are you?”

“Nope, not even a little.” He has never felt so ready for something in his life.

“Good.” She gave him a nod. “Now get the hell out of here. We’ll see you in a few.” With that she gave him one more nudge before shutting the door behind him.

Once Opie was gone the girls got to work on pampering Lyla, making sure she was well taken care of and felt her very best. Annie carefully worked on her makeup while Delilah got to styling her hair. They had music playing softly in the background as they gossiped and laughed just enjoying this moment together.

Once hair and makeup was done all three got dressed. Annie helped Delilah zip up the little navy blue strapless she was wearing for the event. She then adjusted her own dress, a short red number with a deep v plunge neckline.

She was definitely getting laid tonight.

Delilah disappeared a moment to help Lyla get dressed. She zipped the tight fitting wedding dress up for Lyla then placed the veil on her head.

Once she was ready the two came back out together. Annie let out a whistle after checking Lyla out making the bride blush. “Damn girl, you look fucking hot.”

“I do don’t I?” She agreed. She felt great and looked even better. The dress fit her perfectly.

“Are you ready to be Mrs. Winston?” Delilah asked.

Lyla smiled, stealing one more glance at herself in the mirror on her closet door. “Hell yeah. I’m so ready.”

Tagged List: @starrynite7114 @carlaangel86 @spnaquakindgdom

[honeyimthedevil]

Troublemaker

Pairing: Peter Parker x Tony Stark Word count: 929 Warnings: cheating, language, mentioning of death threats 

Prompt: Peter and Tony in a secret relationship, Pepper and Tony are married, and Pepper finds out. The avengers are not pleased, aunt May is disappointed and the public goes after Peter for ruining the power couple of a decade.

@starkerfestivals

***

It started with just a kiss but soon turned in more, so much more. Tony hated himself for lying but couldn't bring himself to stop. Peter knew it was wrong but he did it anyways, he had the man of his dreams. It was all behind closed doors, far away from people's eyes, their little secret.

When they were alone, it was all gentle touches, words, kisses. They couldn't let anyone know what they were doing. When Pepper came down to the lab, Tony went up to her and gave her a kiss, not missing to say 'I love you'. And Peter always watched, and it made his stomach turn knowing what he's doing with her husband. But the guilt wasn't enough to make him stop. He finally had the man of his dreams and that's all that mattered.

They were in the lab, as always. Peter was sitting in Tony's lap while they were looking over the blueprints for their next project. The boy turned his head and placed a kiss on the other's lips, Tony returning it. "We need to go back to working, Pete" the man whispered. "I know" he pouted, "But can I get more kisses later?" "Yes" Tony chuckled. The boys worked until lunch time when they took a break to go eat. Since Peter came in his life, Tony's routine has changed to a healthier one, always eating three times a day, getting at least eight hours of sleep at night. The pizza they ordered was already waiting for them on the kitchen island and within the next thirty minutes it was gone. "Can I get some kisses now?" Peter asked, looking at the man with his puppy eyes. Tony pulled him in close before telling him, "yes". Soon enough they were full blown making out. He was holding Peter up by the ass, oh how much he loved Peter's ass. The boy on the other hand had his arms around Tony's shoulders and legs around his waist.

So into one another, they didn't hear when the elevator opened and the high heels on the wooden floor. Only the gasp pulled them out of the trance and Tony locked eyes with his wife, while Peter hid his face in the man's neck. "You cheating bastard" she said, voice laced with sadness and hatred, "we're done" Pepper took off the wedding ring and set it on the island next to Tony. "Pep-" he started. "No, I don't want to hear it. We're done, I'm quitting. Hope you have fun. I'll come for my stuff later" she looked at him in the eyes and smiled, "Let's see if you can deal with your media drama on your own"

Pepper walked away, leaving Tony gaping. "I'm sorry" the whimper made him look down at he boy in his arms, "I'm sorry, this is my fault" "No Pete, it's not" Peter pulled out of his hold and shook his head, "I'm gonna take my stuff and go. This was just a bad idea from the beginning. I'm sorry Tony, for ruining your marriage and causing drama" he sniffled. "Peter, it's not your fault. Me and Pepper weren't going to last and that's just how it was. Us breaking up was gonna happen with or without you… Please stay" "You don't hate me now?" Peter's voice was so small. "I would never hate you, even if you kill a thousand"

It was around an hour later when both their phones started buzzing. Pepper had told the world what had happened and gave them Peter's information. His Instagram dm's were full with messages from strangers telling him how wrong he it, that they hate him, there were even death threats. Tony's phone wouldn't stop ringing. And then Peter got a text that made his anxiety go up. It was simple 'home now'. He looked at Tony, "I need to go, aunt May said to go home" "Okay. Do you want me to drive you?" "No, I'll take the subway. It's faster" "Be safe" "I will"

On the way back to May's Peter couldn't stop feeling someone watching him. He kept his head low but that didn't stop him from hearing the words that were said his way or the judging looks he couth from time to time. The boy walked in the apartment and was met with just another judging look. "Hi May" he whispered. "Why Pete? Do you know how big of a scandal you just made?" she wasn't yelling. Her voice was calm and unwavering. "It just happened" "Was this the first time?" she asked. "No, it's been going on for over six months" Peter couldn't meet her sight. "We didn't raise you like that, Pete" May shook her head. "You raised me to do what my heart tells me to do" "And this was what your heart was telling you to do? To sleep with a married man?" he could hear the disappointment in her voice. "Yeah" "I'm sorry Pete but you can't live here anymore. I'm gonna give you a week to move out" "Okay" he didn't want to argue, he knew he was in the wrong.

The messages and calls Peter got from the avengers were not pleasing as well. They were not that Tony and Pepper broke up because of him. Steve even gave him a thirty minute lecture on how what he did is wrong. The public was going crazy, the avengers didn't want him anymore. But Peter was fine. He had the man of his dreams and that's all that matters.