#then he shouldn't have made him Like That™

[thelambthatkilledthewolf]

Is there a fandom for Neverwhere? Occasionally I think about those silly little guys

[djevelbl]

My dad just came into my room to ask me if he could drink one of the small sodas I have in the fridge (haven't gotten around to watching the trsmp end event vods lmao), telling me he can replace whatever he drinks bc he has the money...

SIR. IF U CAN BUY IT URSELF THEN WHY TF ARE U ASKING IF U CAN DRINK MY SHIT. GO BUY IT FOR URSELF TOMORROW LIKE THE FUCKING REST OF US 😭😭😭

[evilminji]

I woke up to this thought? And it made me smile~

Wrong way Au?

It's EASY to fly from point A to point B. Linear. Just on long, no traffic, straight line. And if you get lost? Go higher! There you are! But "normal" reporter families with Totally Human genetics can't exactly DO that.

Plus? It's part of the whole Americana thing!

Childhood.

Gotta do a road trip, see weird road side attractions, camp and hike a bit. Go somewhere other then the farm for once. Soooo~ everyone into the car! Yes, you too, Kon.

And don't look at Lois, kids. She hates this idea as much as you do. But it's for Dad. So we're doing it. Get in the car. Some times loving people means "suuuure, honey! I TOTALLY want to sit in an uncomfortable car for hours for your nostalgic dream trip!", so get comfy.

Problem is? He either can't navigate for SHIT (unlikely) or this patch of nowhere? Possibly haunted? Cursed? Fuckey. Very, very Reality Fuckey. Far more likely, honestly. They THINK that was the a same barn the passed four times now... but it looks... wrong? Off. Worse each time, in ways that are hard to place.

Where the FUCK are they Clark?

According to the GPS?

Here.

(You are Here. You are Here. You are He-)

Oh, THAT'S not cursed! She fucking KNEW they shouldn't have left the city. FUCK the countryside. She likes ONE(1) small town and it's where her in-laws live, THANK YOU VERY MUCH! If they die, she swear to GOD-!!!

Then Jon points to colorful tents up the road. A mix of the kind you buy at big box stores and Ren fairs. Balloons. What the fuuuuuck? "Fenton Family Reunion"?

Was... was that THERE a second ago?

Clark's very deliberate Not Too Tight Grip Of Panic ™ on the steering wheel? Confirms that No Honey, it was not. Kon points out? That eventually they ARE going to run out of gas. They should stop.

Words can not express how little the Kents want to do that. They have KIDS to protect. This feels "magical fuckery" to them. AKA? One of the few things Kryptonians very much CAN NOT handle.

And luck getting ahold of anybody back there kids? No? Emergency lines too?

Fuck ™.

Okay! Guess we're stopping! Stay behind us.

They park.

There are campers and trucks, modified tanks and trackers. A few horses grazing side by side with an honest to God moose and two mules. A Llama. Someone's anchored a dirigible. A boat with spindly chicken footed legs, like it's the house of baba yaga's sea faring love child. The name Fenton is slapped on everything. Peoples faces.

Grinning.

Everything grinning.

As they get closer, the racket gets louder. Crashes and smashes. Roaring laughter. Explosions. The screech of metal failing and the whine of energy overclocked. Fatty meats cooking. Spices from around the globe. Radios and instruments, at least one of which violently cuts off in a smash.

They pass an almost violently balloon choked arch, into chaos.

Grinning giants, everywhere. Every color, every shade, every race imaginable. The spectrum of humanity laid bare. Made large. Grinning, Grinning, Grinning. Crashing into each other, against, through. Smashing and laughing, as everything breaks around them. Titans.

Darting underfoot, children. Fast with wild eyes. Mad grins and fae laughs. Wives and husband's, partners and friends, dancing in and out of the chaos. Just as destructive. Perhaps MORE so. Grabbing meals from grills, laughing and joking, tossing children into the fray, all as they effortless hold conversations of their own.

Like a Dionysian revelry, all madness and joy.

Then they are noticed.

"Cousin!"

One of them booms. Locking eyes on Clark. He doesn't even have time to move, doesn't realize until too late, in all the chaos, that the man meant HIM. A running start is followed by a brutal, full body, flying tackle. Clark is taken skidding to the ground and into a headlock.

"LETS WRASTLE~!!"

He watches in helpless confusion as, with high-pitched war cries, a pair of twins jump Jon. They are wearing war paint. Krypto already taken out by a glowing green dog, now confused and wrestling off to the side. Lois has whipped out her tazer. Kon between her and who ever comes next.

By the time he wrestle his "cousin" off of him, he's lost sight of them both.

Dives into the fray.

Magic be damned, that's his FAMILY!

It... It's the most fun he's had in years. That any of them have. He finds Lois in a breathless, screaming, debate/fistfight with her new best friend. Samantha "call me Sam Or ELSE" Manson-Fouley-Fenton. Kon is in the mud pit, wrestling other teenagers in some sort of battle Royale. Jon? Has become king of the ferals. The other parents are impressed.

His years of Damian wrangling finally paying dividends, apparently.

By the time Clark FINALLY tracks down Krypto, there is already crowd and it apparently six heel turns deep into the WWE Grand Saga of the Fenton Pet's League. Krypto, what the hell. No. No you may NOT "form one last alliance against my sworn wrestling enemy, to prove the true meaning of Christmas!" It's the middle of SUMMER!

Clark... Clark is so tired.

He's also a Fenton now. Yes, he KNOWS that's not how anything works. YOU try explaining that! He's on the call list and card list. It's like the Addams family out here! They just... just DECIDED him and his family were related! They've apparently DONE THAT BEFORE!

They leave with directions, fudge, more leftovers then anyone could possibly eat, and a massive new extended family. One that honestly? The Justice League SHOULD have known about. The sheer destructive chaos they get up too? EVERYONE should be aware of them. It seems impossible NOT to be! But? According to THEM, it's a "family thing". Reality tries to ignore them for "it's own sanity"? What???

So yeah.... no more road trips.

How was YOUR weekend?

@hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter @lolottes @babbling-babull @dcxdpdabbles @hypewinter @mutable-manifestation

[tojisun]

Thoughts on baby trapping 🙈

(fictional) baby trapping has me running around the block yelling !!

placebo pills instead of birth control and morning-after; how price changed them when you asked him to pick up your prescription from the pharmacy. he also helps you keep track of your cycle and safe days, but sometimes he drives you to the peak of your desperation that you fold and let him fuck you raw. he kisses your shoulder and promises to pull out, that he won't slip up, and he keeps it. of course he keeps his promises. but the next round, you're more distracted. more sensitive. more needy. so he fucks you good, he fucks you deeply, and muffles his groans on your skin when he cums in you. he says he's sorry, says that he'll pull out the next round he swears, but he doesn't. god, he's sorry he just can't help it. you jus' feel so good 'round him—

he gives you a morning-after, still so apologetic even when you laugh and tell him it's fine. that you get it. that he really shouldn't blame himself because you like it raw too. price smiles, so honest, and kisses you after you swallowed down the pill.

or how simon deliberately makes tears on the condom with his nails, and hides it from you by fisting himself or fucking you on your knees, your head pressed to the mattress, blind to his intentions. he says it might have ripped when he was fucking you hard—remember? i fucked you so deep you said you can feel me 'ere in y'r stomach?—and says he'll be more careful next time. that maybe he needs to pump you with more lube so it won't rip. he pulls a new one from the pack and asks if you can go one more round. you give him a shy nod, arching back into position and watching as he slips the condom on his cock. you last a few thrusts before simon's slapping the fat of your ass, pulling out just to adjust positions, before he's plugging you again with the thick girth of his length. you don't even know he's tugged the condom off him and had plunged his cock in your cunt, raw.

—

sorry my godd this is just some messy rambling bc im honestly kinda super sleep deprived but this made me yell and i had Thoughts™ about this for a while now and!!! yea :D sorry about the mess

[starmocha]

Xiiiiiuuu 💕

it's a brand new Monday, I had a dream with zayne that left me with some searing doubts and i wanna make it everyone's problem:

seeing the guys breaking for being so pent up after days apart from mc is cute and all

but what about a really pent up mc who's also ovulating and she hasn't seen her men in almost a month coz of a silly, classified mission that had her traveling everywhere and put her in a routine where she was too exhausted to do anything else but sleep once she was at the hotel

any kind of text she exchanged with the guys would sometimes get real flirty (initiated by her coz they're all gentlemen and the thing that mattered the most was if she was OK) but she'd end up falling asleep and frustrating herself

so when she comes back, she's pampered by them and they're really just happy she's back and she's ok but this girl is ravenous, and she's climbing on top of them and straddling them and grinding her hips and she's so eager that they have to hold her in place so they can even take a proper look at her face coz really, they can wait, she's tired, they don't have to do anything, they're just soooo fucking happy to be holding her again

and she's looking at them like they're all made of stars and love and she leans in, steals a kiss and while her face is red, cheeks hurting, her voice does not tremble at all when she whispers that she wants to feel them everywhere, and when theur hold on her gets a little tighter, fingers digging into her flesh, she adds that she wants to feel them in all of her holes 🙂

my question is: which of the guys just fucking loses it the hardest? i think all of them would short circuit a bit and almost cum on the spot tbh but they'd fulfill all of her wishes coz they just love her so much

(I'm blaming zayne for this question. blaming him and the desperate way he's always kissing mc. you fall asleep listening to silent poem for the billionth time and this is the result. damn you sexy snowman)

✨HAPPY MONDAY EVERYONE✨

I love a take charge MC. We stan. Get that dicc, girlie. 👏

Ok I accidentally wrote more than yap, so............I had a lot of thoughts........ 🙂 this will be on ao3, too.....

I feel like Xavier would break first. She just needs to mess with him a little and she'll get what she wants lol whereas Sylus would probably have the most control. Of course, he would lose it, too, but only after making sure she is truly wet for him. Anyhoo.................................

tit for tat

Xavier gets hard instantly, because what did his girl just fucking say to him? He knows they've been on different assignments lately and have had minimal contact, but surely that wasn't the reason she came back so... frisky, right? He's stammering, hands on her waist as she assaults him with kisses. It's not that he wants to stop her, but he wants to make sure she realizes what she is asking of him.

He's trying so hard to be a gentleman, but with the way she's grinding down on him, kissing him so hard, and then having the audacity to tease him finally made him snap. Before she realizes she had flipped a switch in him, he had pressed her down into the couch cushions, and he gives her The Xavier Stare Down™. She breathes in sharply. She's familiar with the way his eyes darken. In typical Xavier's fashion, he makes sure her legs are spread for him, and he chastises her, "You shouldn't have teased me so much. I would have been nicer to you."

She acts coy, letting him think he has control over her, but little does Xavier know, she wanted mean Xavier to take over. She anticipates he's going to help her relieve all of her... pent up energy.

sex on the beach

Rafayel is flustered. She had just said what?!

This isn't what he had thought would happen tonight. He had planned the perfect welcome home celebration for Miss Bodyguard. An exclusive reservation at one of the top-starred seafood restaurants, a walk on the beach, catching up under the stars, slowly reigniting the flame between them...

But she's in no mood to take it slow. She practically jumps him the moment they are back in his studio, and he finds himself dodging her advances, hiding behind canvases and the couch as she prowls to him like a lioness with her prey. He has never seen her like this before, and before things could escalate any further, Thomas calls his phone, immediately cockblocking the poor girl to her irritation. Normally, she likes Thomas, but this time, she is already planning his early retirement as Rafayel's agent.

After hanging up, Rafayel takes control of the situation again, saying with feigned disappointment that since the mood is ruined, they might as well still head out and continue with his original plans. She begrudgingly agrees, but throughout the whole dinner at the restaurant, Rafayel could see how frustrated she is. Not at him, per se, but she seems anxious to speed through dinner as quickly as possible.

Later when they walk along the beach together, his hand intertwined with hers and Rafayel is describing what he did during her absence, how boring everything was without her, and if it weren't for the secrecy of her mission, he would've bought a ticket and flew straight to her immediately. This makes her pause, and Rafayel looks at her with confusion.

She starts tearing up suddenly and asks why he was avoiding her earlier then if he claims to have missed her just as much as she had missed him. Immediately, he starts to panic a little, never expecting her to cry. He starts stammering out an explanation, saying he didn't think she was thinking clearly and he didn't want to take advantage of the situation.

She stops him. Suddenly, Rafayel finds himself pushed back, landing in the water, completely soaked. Before he could react, she straddles him and gently holds his chin up, making him look at her.

He realizes she was faking everything the whole time. He scoffs in disbelief, feeling foolish for falling for her ploy. "Crocodile tears, Miss Bodyguard?"

"How else would I get you to take me seriously?" she purrs against his ear, and his breath hitches. Her arms are around his neck, body pressing closer to him. She is just as soaked as he is now, he realizes, feeling the wet fabric cling to her body, his mind shifting focus to the slow grinds of her hips against him and his heart accelerating with every roll.

"This area is private," she whispers into his ear, noting the way it almost immediately turned red at her suggestive words. "Remember when I ordered a 'sex on the beach' earlier during dinner?"

"...Y-yeah..." His throat is dry, his mind already knowing what she is about to say next.

"I wasn't asking for a cocktail."

Immediately, his hands slip under the skirt of her dress, and he pauses almost as quickly, meeting her seductive gaze with surprise. "When did you—"

"They were already soaked before we left the studio. Seemed silly to change when you're just going to take them off anyway, right my fishie?"

He's going to lose his mind, but he gives into her spell, gladly and willingly ready to submit to her whims, to fall deeply into lust with her and drown in this pleasure.

on the same page

Zayne is picking her up from the airport and she nearly jumps on him. At first, Zayne thinks she's just excited to see him again. He misses her, too, and just kisses her back as normal.

Or so he thought.

The moment she gets in his car, she's grabbing his tie and tugging him to her into another heated kiss, surprising him with her boldness. He struggles to stop her, reminding her that they're still in public.

"So, if we're alone, then it's no problem, right?"

He knows what she's suggesting, but he doesn't comment on it. Instead, he buckles her seatbelt for her, intentionally ignoring the pout she gives him. During the drive back to their home, though, she notices how his large hand is covering her thigh, stroking and squeezing every so often. She steals a peek at him, but Zayne remains pokerfaced, and in fact, he is just conversing with her about mundane things. Still, she can't ignore the way his hand feels on her thigh in this moment, already wishing they were home now so he could pry her legs apart and see just how wet she already is for him.

The minute they are home and alone inside the house, Zayne drops his gentlemanly act. She is all over him again, more eager than before, because within the privacy of their home, there is no reason she needs to be discreet about her intents, right?

He lifts her into his arms, her legs wrapped around his waist as he presses her to the closest wall and his lips are all over hers as well. They're getting breathless, becoming delirious with desire for one another. He hears what she says, what she wants from him.

How convenient that this is what he wants, too, and if she's giving him her permission, then who is he to deny her this?

what an honor

Sylus is just delighted, because what did she just say to him?

He hasn’t misheard her, but he couldn’t help but messes with her a little, never imagining there would ever be a day that he would hear such bold, crass words out of the lovely Miss Hunter’s mouth.

"Sweetie, some men might misconstrue what you had just said—"

"You and I both know there is only one man I would say this to."

Fair point. He feels rather honored that she desires him in such a way, and he would be lying if he said he hadn't thought about her recently in a more... intimate nature.

He gets pulled back to the present, falling prey to her relentless kisses. He had missed the way her body feels on his, loving how she is finally being greedy and selfish, acting on her instincts and wanting to use him for her pleasure.

What she wants, he will give it to her.

And if what she wants is him... well then, he has always ever been hers and no one else's.

complete authority

Caleb is going to lose his fucking mind.

With their mismatched schedules lately, it's been difficult to see one another. Instead of arranging a day to meet up in Linkon or Skyhaven or even elsewhere in the world, Caleb comes home one day to find her already in his house in Skyhaven, waiting for him on the couch.

She has a key.

His home is her home.

And Caleb... well, Caleb is also hers. All hers. And she wants him now.

When he approaches her, she is already grabbing the lapels of his jacket and pulling him down on top of her. She's kissing him with so much force, not even bothering with the "hello, how are you" small talks. She needs him now. He's getting lost in her, enjoying the feel of her beneath him. He's kissing her back, getting pulled into the same haze of arousal as her. Things get even more heated as the minutes pass, their breathless gasps and moans filling the silence in his home. By now, he is practically humping her, because fuck, he's pent up, too. It's been weeks apart and the company of the Farspace Fleet is nothing compared to being with her.

His hands are tugging down her skirt, but he freezes when she tells him that.

"A-all of them?" he questions back, red-faced, half out of embarrassment, but the other half was complete arousal at the thought that she would let him use her like that, wanting him to fill all of her.

Feeling his bulge against her own arousal, she smiles back to him mischievously. "Did I stutter?"

He laughs and presses his forehead to hers before kissing her quickly. "You little... alright, be a good girl."

He's kissing her back with the same fervor, reminding her, "Whatever you want is what I'll offer to you."

And that includes the authority to command him.

[abigmessofablog]

I'm sure I'm probably not the first person to note this but the reason so many works derivative of The Hobbit and The Lord of The Rings fails to capture the magic of those works is the lack of the hobbityness

Tolkien was, obviously, entirely aware of he common fantasy and fairytale tropes he was playing off of and they're present in his work (placing the proper king on the throne, elves and dwarves, main character who's hesitant to start his heros journey, dragons, ext) but if need be, these elements will be sidelined to emphasize the Hobbitish philosophy about the importance of comfort and good food and so on and so forth. (Thorin's death speech, Frodo's "I can't recall the taste of food, nor the touch of grass" ext)

Warning; super long, barely readable meta rant written at 2AM below

I've seen people say in any other story, Aragorn would be the main character of LOTR and I can agree with that but I'd argue you can kinda say the same thing about Thorin. Aragorn has his whole "rightful king" plot not dissimilar to how Thorin has his "reclaim the homeland, fight the dragon" plot. In the movies our emotional involvement in Aragorn and Thorin gets beefed up a little as they get some more brooding to the both of them. Aragorn gets his angst over his ancestry, Thorin is taken more seriously (ie: his updated, much more dramatic introduction giving him an air of mystery vs his book introduction, movie Balin's speech about his loyalty to Thorin, the treatment of the whole "gold sickness" thing, Thorin's speeches being taken seriously rather than being lovingly made fun of by the narration, ext) You can easily see a version of these stories where these two kings are the main characters of the story but they aren't! but neither of these characters are our main characters. Frodo and Bilbo are, respectively. And Frodo and Bilbo are simple hobbits with simple likes and the desire to live their simple shire life before getting dragged into adventure by the narrative.

I do genuinely like that in the Hobbit movies Bilbo gets to decide to go on the adventure by himself instead of getting unceremoniously shoved out of the house by Gandalf. It gives him more agency and we get the fun adventure that is supposed to take Bilbo out of his shell. Thats the message most people took from the story (ie "the world is not in your books..." I love this message/interpretation as much as anyone to be clear. I'm very guilty of loving my "Bilbo stays in Erebor" fanworks) but it is worth noting that Bilbo returns back to the Shire after his adventure and he gets the big speech about how more people should value the simple things in life before Thorin dies. Bilbo positions himself as sort of an unconventional hero by modern standards. Bilbo gets out of his situations more often than not through his wit and cleverly talking his way out of it rather than any displays of strength. He talks his way around Smaug, he cheats at his game of riddles with Gollum, he stalls the trolls. Bilbo wasn't even awake for the big climatic battle that gets turned into a climax for one of the movies. Bilbo, while getting braver more capable and more accepting of the situation, is still a hobbit! He wants his home and hearth and if he is dragged on an adventure, he will very loudly let you know about it. Frodo is similar in the sense that his strength doesn't come from any physical strength but from his ability to shoulder the horrors™ and then accept help from the people around him (mainly Sam) because he shouldn't have to shoulder the horrors™ alone. Again, the entire time Frodo is going on his adventure he's thinking about how much he'd rather be home. Sam sort of acts like this beacon of what the home represents and he’s the only thing keeping him emotionally stable and tries to comfort him through keeping him tethered to those memories of home. There’s the obvious scenes where Sam straight up tells Frodo to imagine home but there’s also just things like Sam cooking and insisting on making sure Frodo is fed (please note that sharing food is basically the universal signal for closeness, domesticity and the idea of a family unit. Think Norman Rockwell) or them turning their traumatic events into stories that they (again mostly Sam) expect to tell to their family and friends in a very domestic setting and then have those stories be passed down in the “Samwise the brave”, “Frodo wouldn’t have made it far without Sam” scene

You can also use this theme to sort of track the change in tone between the two stories. Bilbo's craving for the simple comforts of a warm meal, his bookshelves and a comfortable are played for jokes a few times, it's ultimately validated by the narrative. Frodo's drive to get back home is ultimately very melancholic and downright heartwrenching and when he can finally go home, it's not the same. In Bilbos case this change is sort of implied through the way Bilbo is treated very differently and treated like the neighborhood crazy guy by his peers post-adventure and this is played for laughs mostly but with Frodo it's outright stated and it is played completely straight. He's been so traumatized, so changed by his journey that he's simply not the same person he was when he left and he struggles to enjoy the aspects of the home that were previously used as an attempt to comfort him. Hence, “the Shire has been saved, but not for me." And he ends up leaving the Shire for good. As much as we know Tolkien hated the war allegory, it does bring to mind a soldier coming back home with severe trauma.

I feel like so much of this is lost in works that try to emulate LOTR and The Hobbit because of the simple fact that action sells much better. I mean, that's why the third hobbit movie is called "The Battle of The Five Armies" isn't it? There's also the want for grimmer, darker stories, since so many people view those as more "realistic" Maybe it's just the result of more cynical creators and audiences who want to watch more of the killing the dragon and cool battles with the big armies and less of the writing about trees and the value of home. I dunno I'm tired

[astorianyxkings]

Oldest Daughter Dick™ is probably one of my favourite things ever. And it always will be and here's why:

Of course Dick loves his siblings and of course he loves that they know Bruce as the father he is. But it won't stop the jealousy he feels. And no one gets it, not even Jason. They were all raised by Bruce Wayne, he was raised by Batman.

When Dick came to live with him, Bruce had no idea how to he a father. How to handle normal kid stuff like sicknesses and school events let alone the fact he was an acrobat. He was Batman and Dick was raised to be not just his successor but the only contingency plan he had against himself.

Bruce never held his punches ("That was a good block but I still got you, didn't I?" Bruce had said, rubbing cream into the blossoming bruise on Dick's side. "I'll get you next time," Dick had promised, young eyes challenging. "You better." Bruce had grinned back.) All attacks were to remind him that he was at a disadvantage strength wise and thus needed to re-evaluate his lines of defense and offense.

Dick was raised by the paranoid-in-his-late-twenties-probably-shouldn't-be-a-dad-despite-what-Marisol-said Bat. A fun game of catch? He was dodging Batarangs. Learning to drive? It was the Batmobile and he was age 14 (and a half). School events? He was fumbling, awkward and did not want to be there (but still was because he'll be damned if his boy didn't have his support.)

And you know that's fine, Dick was fine. It wasn't Bruce's fault he didn't know how to be a proper dad, despite Alfred's parenting books and videos. And he did try, he was always there. But it just really hits a sore spot everytime he sees Bruce hold a punch before he knocks Tim out cold or when he's behind the wheel with Steph telling her what not to do. Or even when he's at school with Damian and Duke making Marjory and her cupcakes look ridiculous compared to him and his coconut crumble cakes.

It also irritates Dick beyond senseless whenever the topic of sparring with Bruce is mentioned. ("We can all beat the old man Goldie, he's ancient." Jason shrugs off and Dick wanted to scream.) The only one who even tries to sympathize with him was Cass. More than likely because she'd seen him fight as Batman The Dark Knight before seeing him fight as Bruce The Father of Six-Almost-Eight.

And it just really stings because he can't relate to being raised by Bruce the way the others can't. Bruce changed for them, not him. And maybe that kind of hurts. But maybe he's overreacting.

What he doesn't realize is he's the reason why Bruce changed. Bruce saw the hurt and anger in Dick's eyes when he fired him from Robin (Think Shifu denying Tai Lung the Dragon Warrior scroll). He knew the second he saw the betrayal in Dick's eyes after seeing Jason as Robin, that he'd have to change. (The same way Shifu should've changed for Tigress but I digress, not that fandom).

Bruce pulls his punches because he hated seeing Dick limp away from their sparring matches—despite the fire and promise of a rematch in his eyes. He teaches them how to drive regular cars before the Batmobile because the one time Dick crashed (while trying to avoid some of Poison Ivy's vines) his heart rate skyrocketed so high Clark had called him up demanding to know if he was okay. He shows up for Duke and Damian and Cass and Tim because Dick's smile whenever he saw Bruce in the parent's lounge never failed to make him melt.

Bruce stands firm on the fact that while he may have made a hero out of Dick, Dick Grayson made a father out of Bruce Wayne.

[fishhateme]

so... Linkedin influencer au, anyone?

LinkedIn Influencer danny in the midst of the redbull breakdown™ made me think of like this random ass au

BEAR WITH ME

(i made a pt 2!)

Imagine Max being an up and coming engineer or something along those lines, and he's a genius in his field but he's antisocial as fuck (if you'd ask him he'd just say he's intolerant to other people's bullshit)

ANYWAYS he sort of *has* to network because of the horrors of the capitalist world and as he's scrolling through LinkedIn he comes across this... dork? He isn't exactly cringe, not like this other engineer (ahem ahem aerodynamic engineer!lewis) who posts photos of his bulldog going to the office -which is supposed to be inspirational?? Somehow??- or quotes about being a unicorn

(i realize I'm getting sidetracked about how funny lewis would be on LinkedIn so I'll get back on track)

Unlike engineer!lewis, this other guy on LinkedIn isn't necessarily cringe - he's obviously a bit older than max judging by his very proper punctuation (although it is... yknow... linkedin) and his weird hyper fixation with cowboy emojis anytime he gets a promotion or anything like that, but he sort of makes max do that thing where you exhale out of your nose instead of chuckling, and since that's the first semi enjoyable thing max has ever experienced whilst on the hellhole that is linkedin, he decides to follow him

He's forgotten about it at first, but then he sort of start refreshing his feed to check if the guy has posted anything, and then he's commenting on one of his posts about hiding honey badger stickers around his physics faculty office (apparently he works in a university or something, not that max reread his career trajectory ten times or anything) with laughing emojis (who comments on LinkedIn posts? Who is he, his father?) and they get into this weird sort of always-interacting-with-each-other-but-also-y'know-it's-linkedin-not-tinder sorta vibe

The point is that his coworker/reluctant friend lando drags him to this stupid engineering event that's supposed to be perfect for networking.

Max will never admit it, but he agreed to go not only to get away from his horrible boss, because Marko creeped him the fuck out and would criticize his work even if he reinvented Einstein's theory of relativity, but also because the funny linkedin guy posted he'd be there

Except max wonders around and around the stupid aerodynamics convention and, while he runs into that fucking guy with the decked out bulldog more times than he could count, he doesn't think he sees daniel?

He's not about to humiliate himself and ask someone, though. That would be desperate, even if this daniel -danyul- is sort of well known in these circles because his LinkedIn posts are semi well known (max chuckles at the thought of falling for an influencer, but not an Instagram model, instead a LinkedIn physics micro influencer)

After a few hours he gives up, deciding the best course of action is getting shitfaced and therefore successfully forcing Lando to drive back home through the inevitable traffic the convention would bring to town

He goes to the bar and orders a gin and tonic, then another, then a third (he really shouldn't have gotten a third, he was supposed to be looking for another job in the first place and that toto guy from the germany factories seemed interested in his resume, this was a bad idea)

Flushed, frustrated and pleasantly buzzed, he rested his forehead against the coolness of the bar, closing his eyes when he heard someone sit on a stool, an amused Aussie accent right next to him

"What's got you down in the dumps, mate? An equation broke your heart? A lever system rejected your advances?"

Max closed his eyes and barely even chuckled out of courtesy for the stranger. Dork, a distant part of his brain supplied, and although he'd used that same word for someone else his buzzed brain didn't connect the dots

"I was looking for a guy I know from LinkedIn but I think he didn't show up" he admitted, surprising himself with his sudden burst of honesty. Maybe he shouldn't have drank so fast?

The guy next to him cackled, and Max didn't lift his head because the lights were too bright and they'd hurt him, but he was pretty sure he heard the scraping of the stool legs against the floor signaling this random Aussie guy almost ate shit laughing at the patheticness of his situation

Great

"Screw him!" He said, way too cheerfully for Max's taste, and ordered himself a rose

Max lifted his head at that, if only to say how idiotic it was to order a rose instead of a real drink, and he almost gasped when he was met with dark curls and a dangerously toothy grin he'd seen before, on his LinkedIn home screen, on a tiny icon but definitely there

But before he could have time to react, Daniel was clinking his glass of rose against Max's half finished g&t, smiling mirthfully

"Don't worry, mate. People on LinkedIn are a bunch of cunts, anyway"

[softfem-dom]

just being delulu about hybrid!outsiders au, you're just a young wealthy woman that has her life solved thanks to being the heir to your father's succesful bussiness. You just have to sit around in your desk, in your huge countryhouse, and do some stupid paperwork. You just have to sign and aprove and decline and repeat, easy, right? Well, you are really starting to dislike the utter silence in your house. Everything is too quiet and too empty and you sure as hell ain't gonna have kids anytime soon without a partner. So you head up to the locel hybrid kennel, because it's better than adopting and paying for pure breed dogs when there are ones about to be sacrified. And then, once you enter, you're greeted by the sight of a lot of hybrids in pitiful conditions. Mostly males. So you head up to the closest worker and ask "which is the one that is closer to being sacrified?" and the man simply points towards a small cage with a tan-skinned hybrid (that looked scared out of his mind) "that one" he replies nonchantaly.

So you go and try and adopt that stray Greyhound hybrid, named Johnny, only for other dogs to start barking at you. Seemingly, to get Johnny you had to get Dallas—a Canary Mastiff—. And to get Dallas you had to get Two-Bit—a Siberian Husky—. And to get Two-Bit you had to get Steve—a Weimaraner—. And to get Steve you had to get Sodapop—a Golden Retriever—. And to get Soda you had to get Ponyboy—a Belgian Tervurem—. And to get Ponyboy you had to get Darry—a German Shepherd—. Basically, they were an inter-breed pack and either you got them all or you got none. And, against your better judgement and because you couldn't just let them be sacrified —because you were sensitive like that, damn—, you ended up taking them all in.

—Wich was at both the best decission of your life and the worst mistake you've ever made—.

,,

Darry was goddamn glad you had agreed to take them all in, mainly because you were more-or-less his age and he was no longer the only figure of authority in the group. He was the most helpful, often offering to help you wash the dishes or cook lunch.

Johnny was the most shy one of them all, he had a guarded nature and it seemed something had happened to make him all-the-more anxious and wary around new people. However, he seems to be taking a liking to you by the way he usually drops on his knees under your desk whenever you're working and rests his head on your lap —more often-than-not playing around with your skirt or pants—.

Ponyboy was the youngest, but surpsisingly not the most hyper despite still being practically a puppy. He's very smart and will often correct you just to (affectionately) get on your nerves, he also likes to read your books so you better keep anything with inapropiate content out of his reach if you don't want an earful from his brother Darry.

The most hyper price is won by both Sodapop and Two-Bit, they're just two overeager hybrids that are completely ecstatic about living in your house —often sticking their noses where they shouldn't, but oh well. Soda is very hyper, constantly orbiting around you and asking about everything you do —even when you're just cooking and he has seen Darry cook plenty of time before, he just wants you to talk to him—. There are no thoughts™ inside his pretty head, and also the most reactive to praise. Just slip in a "good boy" or "such a good job!" and he's melting into a puddle of goo in the floor, tail wagging furiously. Two-Bit is hyper too, but more on the restless side of the spectrum. He just needs distractions, put on mickey mouse on the TV or give him a newspaper to tear apart and he's all good 👍.

Steve is more.. on the reserved side, a little more grumpy and stubborn —and the only one to have ever flared his teeth at you—. It's not that he doesn't like you, at the contrary:; he damn loves you for taking the whole gang in, but that's just his personality. He'll show how grateful he is by helping you out in subtle things, like picking up the toys from the others and placing them all in one place so you don't go crazy when it's time to put them in their box, or by making sure no one —Dallas— steals anything personal from you.

Dallas is the biggest deal out of them all though, he's just completely unhinged. He doesn't follow your rules and is constantly going out of his way just to do specifically what you told him not to —thank god that Darry's there to keep him in his place from time to time—. He's a total bastard, and is always being a bitch about things and also always saying comments about your body and how hot you are. Also you're pretty sure a few panties of yours have gone missing.. But, in the end, at least your house is not empty anymore, neither silent, constantly echoed in: "mommy!" that's Johnny. "ma'!" that one's Steve. "mommaaaa!" that's Ponyboy complaining about something, no doubts. "miss mommy!" those two are, no doubt, Two-Bit and Soda. "mama~" that damn sing-song tone is Dallas'. And yes, Johnny, you can read him a book even though he's clearly able to do it himself. Yes, Steve, you know where his shirt is, but he can't go around shirtless like that.Yes, Ponyboy, you can give him a can of coke even tho he's obviously able to get it himself. Yes, Soda and Two-Bit, you can put the channel in which they stream mickey mouse™ even if they already know which it is. And yes—oh, actually no, Dallas, you won't shower him, he can do it himself.

SORRY THE DELULU HIT HARD 😭

[leviscolwill]

ballroom extravaganza

pairing: jude bellingham x f1 driver!reader

summary: you always hated arguing with jude, but even more so when you're about to race monaco's streets (wc: 1,7k)

req: jude bellingham x f1 related f!reader ! (driver if u can or js a driver’s relative) where they argue before a match/race that doesn’t go really well + she crashes/dnf or he gets rlly hurt in a match

contents: jude is jealous, reader drives for mclaren w lando (sorry oscar my beloved </3), possible racing inconstancies (i can't drive to save my life), reader crashes (nothing too bad happens tho), gasly slander sorryyyy, language ??, quite angsty but happy (&fluffy) ending i swear

note: i didn't want to make either jude or reader 'the bad guy™' so i hope i didn't side with one more than the other writing the argument part :| i had so much fun writing it, so i hope you enjoy reading it (lmk by rb and giving feedback !!). finally, thank you for requesting anon,, i hope you like it 🫶

now playing: ballroom extravaganza by dpr ian (moodswings in to order)

"i'm just saying, i don't like the way he looked at you when he said that"

"you're being ridiculous jude, he's my teammate and i've known him for years."

jude had always been the jealous type, and you never had any problem with this, until now. he tried to tell you how lando was flirting with you when that's really just how he communicated. sure, he was kinda flirty at times, but he knew you were in a relationship and never crossed any lines with you. but jealousy seemed to get the best of your boyfriend in that moment.

"that's not the point y/n, i'm a man and i know what he meant when he said he'll take you to this 'perfect seaside italian restaurant if your boyfriend won't'. and you just stood there laughing." his voice was louder now, and you hated it whenever jude screamed, especially when those screams were directed at you.

"you're delusional... he didn't imply anything with that, he was only joking." you tried to reason your boyfriend.

"i still don't like it, i'm not asking you to never talk to him again, just make it clear you're-"

"but he knows that jude! i talk about you all the time, let's be serious for a second, come on." you laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation you were in, 45 minutes before the monaco grand prix fighting with your boyfriend in your driver room, it was probably the last thing you should be doing on a track where your focus was the most important thing.

you were always grateful whenever jude made time to see you racing because you knew how packed his schedule was. but right now, he was the last person you needed to see given the circumstances.

"jude, please just leave, i'm sick of fighting."

"i'm not leaving, we're having this conversation whether you like it or not." he said in a calmer tone, but it was too late, the damage was done.

"well, you're in my room right now and i want you out. i need to focus and you're not exactly helping right now."

"but we need to talk it out, i don't want you to go while we're fighting." you would have sworn his voice broke a bit when he ended his sentence.

"maybe you shouldn't have picked a fight with me then! maybe you shouldn't be here at all actually..." you practically whisper the last part and you immediately regret the words that came out of your mouth, knowing well you didn't mean them.

"okay then..." jude quickly gets up and you can't help but look at your feet, you can almost feel the sad look on his face.

"i love you."

you wanted to say it back but he closed the door with a loud bang before you could mutter any sound.

the only thing jude left behind was the faint smell of his cologne for you to think about what just happened and not focus on your race at all.

deep breaths. deep breaths were what you needed, you tried to shift your focus on your start, how you needed to get away from sainz, given how close he was to you. whenever your mind drifted off to the argument you had with jude, you found another thing to focus on before the race. the formation lap would start in a couple minutes, your focus needed to be on monaco's streets for at least an hour and a half, then you'll handle the rest later with jude, you always did.

the formation lap started and everything went perfectly well, you just had to wait for the red lights to turn off and you'll be gone, no more thinking, or overthinking.

"it's lights out and away we go in the streets of monaco."

perfect start, now you just had to race like you knew how to for 78 laps. nothing you couldn't do.

the first 46 laps went perfectly, you managed to overtake carlos' ferrari and pierre's alpine. everything went well, then you thought about jude, you knew he was probably still mad at you but you still hoped he was watching the race, waiting for you with papaya-coloured headphones. as your thoughts kept going you were about to get to the trickiest part of the circuit, mirabeau.

as your focus shifted back to your race, you forgot the most important thing, the biggest danger on track is the other drivers.

your brain barely had time to register the bright blue alpine trying to overtake you when there was clearly no space. next thing you knew, your head hit the cockpit. before you hit the wall at god knows what speed, you thought about how you didn't tell jude you loved him back, and how you hoped he was still aware of how much he meant to you in that moment.

pitch black, no sound at all, you couldn't feel anything for about thirty seconds because of the shock.

then everything came back. you felt the urge to move your legs around, they moved. perfect. then you felt like your position was unusual, you came to a conclusion on your own, your car was on its side. you didn't even get to think about getting out because you felt a horrible pain in your head, where it was hit you assumed.

and lastly, you saw the medics making sure you were okay, you moved your hand for them to understand the message. you were okay, they helped you out of the car, saying you would be taken to the infirmary.

you couldn't stop smiling, you felt terrible about the race and it was probably the biggest crash you ever experienced but everything was well, your family and friends saw you get out of the car safely, and you'd be able to tell jude you loved him. everything was well.

you had to answer the medics questions that made you feel like a 4-year-old: "what's your name ? do you know which day of the week it is ?" you knew it was for safety reasons but you absolutely hated it.

jude opened the door in pure jude fashion, loudly. you almost stopped waiting for him at that point but he was here finally.

he didn't even talk to you, words weren't needed. he just held you really tight even though you were still on the, very uncomfortable, infirmary bed. you felt his arms that were holding onto you shake as he kissed your hair.

"you have no idea how fucking terrified i was y/n." while jude had been to a fair few races with you, he'd never seen any big crashes, let alone involving you. yes, you could only imagine how scary that must have been for him, feeling powerless over the situation, you knew it all too well. you felt that way when jude was injured and you were absolutely helpless, of course you never wished for your boyfriend to ever feel that way, but here you were.

"i love you." you felt like it was the first thing you should say right now. "so so so much. i'm sorry for not saying it earlier." jude looked at you as tears started to form in your eyes, he quickly wiped them away and kissed away the sudden wave of sadness surging through you.

"and i'm sorry for getting mad at you, i shouldn't even have told you about it before the race, it was-"

jude was cut short when someone knocked and opened the door quickly after. pierre came in with a sorry look on his face, you heard he dnf after he damaged his car. poor thing.

"y/n, are you okay? i'm sorry about-" he started rambling with a french accent.

"i'm fine don't worry, just... can we talk about it later? you can come to our motorhome, they make great coffee there i swear." you tried to joke to lighten up the atmosphere, but it was still as tense as before.

if looks could kill, gasly would have died right here the way your boyfriend eyed him in silence, his gaze following the driver on his way out.

"what a fucking dickhead. how is he driving a whole f1 car? even i would do a better job than him i swear..." your boyfriend's pettiness amused you, even more so knowing that boy couldn't ride a bike without scaring the life out of you.

his features visibly changed and you knew he wanted to talk your argument out, as you were both calmer about the situation. but he didn't get the chance to speak a word before lando opened the door.

"what did that french hooligan do to my favourite teammate? that was a barbarian try at overtaking really." you laughed at your teammate being dramatic, as always.

"i'm fine, i think gasly needs prescription glasses though, i don't know where he saw the space there but i'm okay."

once again, you felt jude's eyes burning holes in lando's skull as he went silent, he quickly took the hint and left.

you couldn't help but burst out laughing at jude when it was just you two in the room.

"you need to stop glaring at people like that."

"i just don't like him." you took his hand as he looked at you, his look much softer than the one he gave pierre and lando.

"i only want you. alright? it doesn't matter how lando views me, whether what you think is true. he will never be you." you told him stroking your thumb on the back of his hand.

"i know that, i was just mad at how he acted with you. i'm sorry about that. i trust you, 100%. i just don't like how comfortable he was making these comments y'know."

"i get that, i'll make my boundaries clear with him, okay? let's not fight over silly things like that anymore."

jude softly grabbed your jaw and kissed you, you could tell you both needed this talk, and this kiss, to clear the air.

you pull out of the kiss first, suddenly feeling the urge to annoy him.

"you know... you look good when you're jealous, i might try that more often..." jude faked a serious face.

"if attention was what you wanted, you just had to ask love." he joked as you playfully hit his arm.

"just no more leaving without saying 'i love you' alright?" he asks before quickly kissing your forehead.

"never again."

[vasyandii]

Hello! I just wanted to say that I absolutely adore your IHNMAIMS oc. I'm a OC x canon enthusiast and seeing a character so well written and adapted to the story as Vernon is makes me so excited!! Plus your art is literally amazing. I've been curious since you mentioned how Vernon cuts potions of her meal to give them to AM and how the food improved since AM got his body, what food/meals do Vernon and AM like/dislike/have as favourite? -for AM, at least from what he has tasted- Whether if it's because of the taste, flavour, etc.

Howdy Anon! Thank you so much for the kind words, I've been giddy since I got it a few days ago! I'm glad my OC x Canon content gets your stamp of Approval >:D!! 💞💞

VernonAM 🏺🖥️ Food Preferences

I think Vernon is careful in choosing the food she shares with AM because he will eat literally ANYTHING. She would try to eat things to torture herself with, extremely spicy foods, live insects, raw organs, etc. but then remember that she has to "Feed AM". So she opts out for something normal so his taste buds don't get fucked.

Or as normal as it can get, the food kind of has the uncanny valley effect as well. It looks normal and tastes normal, but she feels there's something a bit off about it (kind of like airplane food). So she often leaves criticism to the Chef™ (AM) or asks to cook instead.

Vernon isn't particularly picky when it comes to food, she'll eat it and clean her plate. She likes her food balanced, vegetables/meat with sauce and all that. If it tastes good, she'll eat it, y'know?

AM is more... difficult. Sure, he'll eat anything, but if it tastes really bad, it'll traumatize him and he'll refuse to eat it for a while.

His food has to not be touching, if it's mixed in all together beforehand he'll eat it. If there's sauce it shouldn't be close enough to where it can contaminate the food AM's eating because he WILL taste it, no matter how small the amount is. His utensils need to be a specific size, and the food HAS to be hot/warm. He needs to be able to see or know every ingredient in it.

It's observed that AM likes fried foods/anything crunchy because of how consistent they are in taste, texture, and flavour. So what ends up happening is Vernon will just include those foods into her meal, just to not eat it and have it on a little plate for him.

Vernon asks him why he can't just make food for himself, his response is "I don't need to eat, I eat when when you eat."

But honestly it's a pretty dumb question now that she's looking back on it. AM has all the knowledge in the world about food, everything ever made, everything he's never tasted. So he's basically asking Her, indirectly, "I don't know where to start or what's good. But you do. I trust you. Feed me."

Now here's some of the meals They've had together (+ AM's comments):

Chicken soup ("Too wet", just ate the broth)

Caesar Salad ("Damp, Crunchy water")

Vanilla ice cream (experienced a brain freeze for the first time, thought his body was malfunctioning)

Spaghetti Bolognese ("No I will not be mixing it, you mix it for me")

Western beef stew (He picked out the potatoes and only ate those. Thought the meat was irritating to eat.)

Baby carrots. ("You know they bleach these, right?")

Asparagus (he likes them. Needs to be warm)

Broccoli (same thing)

Cheese Pizza (Ate it, ate too much. Tummy hurted.)

Tempura (Ate too much, tummy hurted)

Fish and chips (Ate too much, tummy hurted)

Coffee, black (spat it out)

Macaroni and cheese (Ate too much, tummy hurted)

Grilled chicken hearts skewers (He liked it, but kept poking the roof of his mouth with the skewer.)

Half a Hamburger (picked out the vegetables because he didn't like them, still tasted it and gave the rest to Vernon)

Half a cheeseburger (ate it with no fuss.)

Aaand that'll be all for now :) if you made it this far, thank you for reading! If you need any clarifications, feel free to tell me!

[cinnamonest]

Okay imagine Diluc with his darling being a captain of the knights. Like after he was away after what happened to Crepus she gets the role of captain. Better yet if they were like childhood friends or their parents arranged their marriage when they were young. So when Crepus died and Diluc ran off to archons knows where, she decided to pursue what she wants in life. So just imagine the shock Diluc would have when he expected to come home and take her into his household and she would one day have his children, only to find their arrangement is called off. He firmly believes that his darling should have no involvement with the knights, she should be back at the winery as his housewife.

The next time she tries to go to the Angel’s Share to get a drink with Kaeya and Eula after a hard day’s work, she is banned from the bar. When she asks why, she gets no other answer than it is what Diluc said. Diluc hoped she would have come and talked to him after that but instead Kaeya and Eula decided to take her out to the Cat’s Tail instead if they can’t all drink together at the Angel’s Share. She has completely moved on with Diluc and instead have met knew friends within the knights.

Then imagine if Diluc confronts his brother about her and Kaeya basically tells him to leave her alone and tells him if he tries to do anything he’ll have the entirety of the knights on his ass.

Protective best friend Kaeya thoughts™️

Diluc is plagued by that typical Man Thing™ where he just sort of views you as this sort of… thing. Things are static. If you leave them sitting on a shelf, leave and come back, they’ll be right where you left them. They don’t change and grow, they don’t have an existence of their own. He has a habit of thinking of you this way — his mind doesn’t process the fact that while he’s gone, you’ll continue to live your life, that you’ll talk to people and do things and make choices. Or rather, it feels like he’s the center of your life, that it revolves around him, so nothing important can happen to you if he’s not there. He imagines you’ll just be all sad and wistfully waiting for him like a housewife waiting on her husband to return from the war or whatever.

But ohhhh the falling out between those two makes things so much worse. You're hanging out with him? After he explicitly told you not to, before he left? You... deliberately went out of your way to go against his very clear orders?

This is made even more bizarre by the fact that you were raised to obey him. Even when you were young, you were made aware that he was your future husband and that whenever you saw each other, you were supposed to do everything he says and bow your head and be pleasant and sweet and never raise your voice and be respectful and speak softly and so on and so on, all the proper manners and such that were instilled in you. He was used to that. You were obedient, loyal. What happened to you? Did you forget what he said before leaving?

No, it has to be his influence. There's no way his perfect wife-to-be would ever make a conscious decision on her own to disobey.

He's not exactly wrong, you've spent the last few years with Kaeya more or less every day, who’s always telling you how you shouldn't let yourself be tied down by something as archaic as arranged marriage, you should be out here drinking and living life to the fullest and spending time with him instead and all that. He's just looking out for your best interests. How cruel of society to lock you into some arrangement where you’re expected to obey some man's every word, when you should be choosing to listen to him instead (on you own volition, of course, he'd never say you have to listen to him, but you know, you still should, because he gives good advice and all).

But you do feel guilty. Terrible, really, thinking you've hurt your ex-betrothed. You do like him, he was just so… controlling, stern and all. Maybe if you talk things out, you can still be together, but you know, in an equal, mutually respectful relationship, without any expectations of submission and obedience on either end and all that. Sure he was raised a certain way, but that doesn't mean he can't change, right?

So against the advice, you do decide to go talk to him. You haven't seen him in so long, the memories — and your awareness of his ways and nature — feel very distant. Less real. You're used to reasonable people, and you've changed a lot, you're sure he's changed too. It's a maturity thing, right?

He'll be happy to see you, since he's been practically begging you to come back, writing letters asking — well, more like demanding, but still — for you to talk to him. You're sure he's matured a lot over the years of absence. He'll surely be willing to adapt to a different mindset once he just listens to you and lets you talk — he'd let you talk, right? It's true that when you were younger, on the few times you insisted on defiance, he'd eventually grab your jaw and tell you to be quiet, but that was then. This is now.

And if you can't come to a mutual understanding, you'll just walk out the door and leave. Sure, likewise, when you got into mild disagreements when you were younger he would grab you by the arm and physically block the door until you submitted and conceded and apologized for such unbefitting behavior, but… he's outgrown that, surely… you think.

[rogue-durin-16]

HEAD-TO-HEAD (part IV/?)

Summary: Joe thought she was pretty. Had he just said that, things might have been different for them. Maybe they wouldn't have gone head-to-head at each other for three years like it was a contest.

Pairing: Joseph Liebgott x Reader

Genre: angst splattered with fluff/rivals to lovers

Tags:

Head-to-head: @derersketnoget @ladystardustfromarss

Band Of Brothers: @fernando-jpg @chubbypotatoepie @tvserie-s-world @clumsy-wonderland @lordndsaviorwinters

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @comfort-reads

Warnings: language, alcohol, smoking (that's it?)

A/N: I lied, we're not getting to the SS Samaria yet, we're getting those jump wings baby. We're a couple of chapters away from Ugly Things™ so better enjoy the fun while we can, am I right? <3

Head-to-head masterlist

Band of Brothers masterlist

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

Beer splattered on the floor from too much enthusiasm, laughs filling the place, jokes lifting the pressure Sobel had put on us for longer than anyone would have wanted, and yet my attention kept drifting to her.

She stood close to the wall —not too far from the ruckus, just enough to stay out of the spotlight—, smiling.

Her cheeks mildly flushed; a telltale sign that a little too much alcohol ran through her veins tonight. I couldn't really make out the sound of her laugh, but by the way she threw her head back, Grant's joke must have been good.

Good enough for her to allow his fingers near the rebellious strand of hair that always seemed to frame her face.

Good enough for Grant to lean on when her palms smoothed out his jacket, her thumb wiping his recently pinned jump wings.

She was playing. That jacket was perfectly ironed and those jump wings weren't dusty. There was no need for her to linger. There was no need for her to look at him through her lashes with that stupid grin that screamed trouble.

There was no need for any of that, and yet it was happening. She was standing there, smiling, hands lingering, cheeks flushed and Chuck's lips on hers.

I don't care. I don't fucking care. It's their life.

"Having a good time, Lieb?" When my head snapped back to the counter, Luz was leaning on his elbows, eyes way too sharp for my liking.

"Yeah." It was too fast and too harsh, and it made Luz's attention follow the direction in which I had been looking at.

"Jesus Christ." His upper body straightened, hands still on the bar counter when he called for Toye. "Hey, Joe, take a load of that."

George tilted his chin to the side of the room and the Irishman turned in time to see Y/n's arms draping over Chuck's shoulders.

"You gotta be kidding me." He limited himself to comment, resignation adorned with the tiniest glint of amusement. "Told you not to give her that last beer."

"She's a big girl, alright?" Luz's tone turned stern for a second. "She can take—" his eyes widened dramatically, a nervous laugh escaping him at the sight. "She can take a lot of things, apparently."

"Like Grant's tongue down her throat." Skip chimed in, immediately picking up on the topic while his hand reached for one of the stools besides Toye. "Who would've thought."

My gaze, until now fixed on the bar counter like it was far more interesting than the event unfolding somewhere in my right flank, switched back to her.

"What the hell's wrong with her?" I didn't bother hiding the disgust pinching my face when my head snapped back to the boys around me. "This is why we shouldn't have a broad around—" I hissed at Toye's immediate smack on the back of my neck. "Don't fucking touch me."

"Then watch that damn tongue, alright?" He cautioned, taking a swig of his beer.

"Don't be an asshole, Lieb." George was quick to join Toye in Y/n's unnecessary defense. "The girl's just having fun, like it or lump it."

"Fun?" I shot her a glare. They were laughing between kisses, like it was funny. "She could get kicked out of the Airborne for this."

"Are you gonna rat her out?" Skip taunted me with a quirked brow.

"He's just mad it's not him." George winked at me, taking out a pack of smokes from his pocket. "Four months of you two being stupid and you still haven't made a move." His tone sounded far too nonchalant considering what the words implied. "Can't be mad someone else did." George shrugged, taking a cigarette to his lips.

"Why don't you shut up for a change, Luz?" I hissed, more annoyed than mad.

"Why don't you talk to her for a change?" George countered, a lopsided smirk trapping the now lit cigarette. "Y'know, like a normal person."

"Luz, drop it." Toye reprimanded the boy filling the barman duties. "And you," his index finger lazily pointed at me. "stop running that big mouth 'bout her just 'cause you're jealous."

"Jealous?" I breathed out a scoff, pushing myself off the counter and taking my beer with me. "Give me a damn break, Toye."

I was not far enough from the three men to miss Luz initiating a bet. 'Five bucks says she'll... something something', I couldn't make half of it with all the noise engulfing me as I traded the crowded place in Grant's and Y/n's direction.

By the time I reached their spot, Y/n's shoulder rested on the wall, her drink almost empty held by one of her hands while the other tapped its nails against the glass. Chuck's back was to me. He stood close enough to shield her from the celebrations but somehow, her eyes still managed to land on my form.

The change from her laid-back posture to something more guarded gave Chuck the cue to turn around.

"Someone told you two to get a room yet?"

I raised my glass at my friend's thrown look, refraining the urge to stare back at Y/n.

Grant grabbed the cigarette tucked behind his ear and tapped it against his palm lazily. "Alright." It was more of a sigh than a word. He leaned in to whisper something in her ear that made her snort.

"Yeah, okay." She replied, keen eyes following Chuck's movements as he stepped back and did a half turn, his hand patting my shoulder on his way out.

I waited until her attention was back on me before asking. "Having a good time?"

Her body, still supported by the wall, tensed up ever so slightly, her grip on the glass tightening —much like mine. "Yes. Got a problem with that?"

A beat of anticipating silence between us seemed to muffle the animated chatter behind me.

"Are you stupid?"

"No, just drunk." She deadpanned, tilting her head to the side while sporting a tight-lipped smile. "Thank you for your concern, though."

I huffed a not-at-all amused chuckle, diverting for an instant my squinted eyes from her. "You ever think things through?"

She breathed out one single laugh, her disbelieving gaze screaming very clearly 'are you kidding me?'.

"You know what, Liebgott? If you're gonna scold someone," She tilted her chin up, motioning me to look at one of the farthest tables where Grant had squeezed himself in between Talbert and Ramirez. "scold him. He's your friend. I'm not."

My friend. I mused her words for a second.

We'd see about that.

"You're right." I nodded, my lips curved into a mildly annoyed pout. "You're just the idiot that's gonna get herself kicked out of the Airborne 'cause she was too fucking desperate for a kiss."

Her irises darted at her glass for a split second and she swallowed the briefest hesitation I caught in her visage.

It was fast —so fast I barely had any chance to shut my eyes before what was left of her beer was splashed on my face, triggering a couple of gasps and poorly hidden laughs in our vinicity.

My hand was rubbing out the sticky liquor from my lids when her palm slapped something against my chest that I instinctively caught with my fingers. A handkerchief, considering the touch of the fabric.

"If I were desperate, Joe," by the time I managed to see again, she stood upright besides me, leaving her now empty glass on the high table at her left. "I would've gone to you."

"You're hilarious, really." I retorted with a flat tone, using the embroidered cotton cloth to get rid of the drink's remainders dripping down my cheeks. "Came up with it yourself?"

"Fuck you."

And with that, she was off to the bar counter, where I saw Skip halfheartedly passing what I supposed we're the five bucks they had bet.

"Charming." I muttered under my breath as I walked to the empty chair at Popeye's crammed table, tucking Y/n's handkerchief into one of my uniform's pockets without giving it a second thought.

[chemical-killjoy]

Healing Kiss

Jack Dawson x Female Reader

Summary: y/n is Struggling™ and in hospital, can her best friend and doctor heal her?

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: mentions of self harm, suicide attempt, sexual and physical abuse, blood and bruises, semi smut. If any of this gets to you, please don't read, it is a STRONG theme. Stay safe <3

Author's Note: ... I got issues, m'kay? Anyway this fic is a little old but I'm finally publishing it. As always if you like it, please reblog, and if you want to be tagged in my fics please click here!! Thank you <3

Jack had never been so terrified in his life. It was just another Thursday night, when the blond man walked up to Y/N's door and knocked, grateful to have a moment free for his best friend. But instead of her bright face opening the door, Jack was greeted by an eerie silence. After waiting for a few minutes and eternity, dread filled his chest. He knew that Y/N was going to be home, the plan was for Jack to come over so you could get his opinion on your latest poem. Y/N doesn't back out of plans.

Jack called out, and for a moment he calmed down, tried to rationalize. Maybe Y/N had lost track of the days again, as often happens when she's writing. But instead of silence, this time he heard a small voice through the walls, calling his name like a question. Without hesitation, Jack broke through the door and ran to Y/N's room.

He'd never been scared of blood before.

The carriage jostled as the horses sped towards the hospital, and a groan escaped your lips at the movement. You kept hearing Jack whispering to you.

“Eyes open, Y/N, do you hear me? Keep your eyes open, please. Please.” His voice broke on the last word. You wanted to answer, to keep your eyes open, but you were so tired, and sleep was so welcoming. You wanted to slip into that abyss, the nothingness of the black ink behind your eyes. Maybe, if you just let the pain go, you could sleep forever. That was the latest plan. But the carriage jostled and bruises collided with floor and you whimpered. There was no rest. But by the time you got to the hospital, you were unconscious.

You woke up with a headache. Such was expected, after the night you had had. The night before came crashing back into your mind, five times worse than the headache. Tom. The fight. Hiding in your bedroom. Tears streaming down your face and a hollow ache of numbness settling over you.

You raised a hand to rub your head when you noticed the bandages. Shame settled deep into your bones and tears sprang to your eyes. What had you done? You took a bad situation and made it so much worse. You shouldn't have fought back. No, you shouldn't blame yourself. Both thoughts spun around in equal measure, making you feel dizzy. What would your family think? What will happen when Tom finds out? Who found you?

Jack.

Oh no, not Jack, you thought. The tears came harder, dehydration be damned, you couldn't stop. The nastiness of your mind started up again. He hates you now, he feels sorry for you, he's going to leave you, you've disappointed him, he doesn't care about you like that and you know it, and he never will now. You started to gasp for air when you heard the door creak open just enough to see Jack's eyes peer through, not wanting to disturb you if you were asleep. You couldn't fake it fast enough.

The door opened wider as Jack walked inside. In just a few strides, he was at your bedside, and for a second you thought you saw him hesitate to come closer.

“How are you this morning?” Jack voice was steel as he clenched his jaw and looked to the ceiling, playing the clinical doctor, not the terrified friend.

“Jack. I'm so sorry.” You said, softly, scarcely concealing the hurt in your heart. You didn't want the voices inside to be true.

Jack nodded once. Twice. And then he kept nodding, as if the more he nodded, the more sense it would make. The nodding turned into a shake and he looked at you with fierce eyes.

“Why?” he asked, anger covering fear as well as a band-aid covers a bullet hole. “Dear God, why?! What happened?” Hesitation gone as he sat down on your bed, taking one hand in his. “Y/N, please, tell me what's going on. You haven't been yourself for months now and I didn't know what to think, and now this?” He took a breath, and shamed still prevented you from looking at his face. “Please, tell me what brought you such pain that you thought death would be better. I'll take care of it, please, just-” You'd never heard the self proclaimed artful dodger's voice break before. “Just don't leave me.” He pressed your knuckled to his forehead, and for a second, the pain of the night before didn't seem to hurt.

You didn't see a way around it. You had to tell someone the truth or you'd burst, and you trusted Jack more than you trusted yourself. After a moment, you took a breath and began to speak.

“Tom. He-” Jack's face hardened immediately at the name of your fiance. He'd never liked the man, half because his gut told him he couldn't be trusted, and half because he was betrothed to the woman he loved. “He attacked me. When I told him the wedding was off. He- he pushed me against the wall, said that I had just been leading him on, that he could make me his wife one way or another, a- a- and and then-” your breathing was coming fast and you could feel a panic attack coming on.

It took Jack a moment to realize what was going on, as he was lost in his confusion. Since when was the wedding off? Who would be dumb enough to attack high nobility such as yourself? What did he mean- oh hell no. The rage came quickly and diminished just as fast when he saw you gasping for breath.

“Y/N/N, breath, everything is alright, calm down. Breath with me. You are safe, you are here with me.” You had told Jack once about the panic attacks, the way it felt like you where drowning in air, anxiety rising over and killing you. You'd explained what helped you through them, even though medically speaking, you sounded crazy. But Jack trusted you, would never think you crazy and would do anything to see you smile.

Jack repositioned himself to hold you against his chest, too scared to squeeze hard, even if that's what you'd previously instructed him to do. The sound of his heartbeat and movement of his chest under you calmed you down a bit, and the hysterical crying and panic dulled to simple tears. You continued talking.

“I was so scared. So I ran into my bedroom, and locked the door. But I could hear him screaming and feel him slamming against the door against my back. And it occurred to me that I can't run from him, Jack. He was right, I'm going to be his one way or another. I just couldn't do it, I couldn't take it. He repulses me, I just...” you stopped talking for a moment in the hopes the tremble in your voice would calm. It didn't. “I just feel like the only way to be free of him is...” you trailed off, leaving Jack to fill in the blank.

Jack pulled back and looked you in the eye.

“No. No, your death is not the answer. Tom, on the other hand...” Jack trailed off. You wanted to be scared but couldn't find the sympathy within you, drained of emotions from the panic attack. “There'll be a way. We will find one. Just don't leave. I cannot fathom a life without you.”

The tears in Jack's eyes only furthered those in yours, until the pair of you were holding each other and sobbing. Jack held you tighter, and for a moment it was comforting, until you breathed in and the pressure hurt the bruises on your waist and hip, making you gasp.

“What's wrong?” Jack asked, immediately springing to his feet and checking both your bandages, but no blood seeped through.

“Nothing, just a bruise, I think.” You said. Only it wasn't just a bruise, it was the mother of all bruises, and you were scared to think of how bad the damage would have been had you not been wearing a full skirt and corset.

“Where.” Jack's question was more of a statement, doctor mode activated.

“My waist and hip.”

You weren't expecting a small blush to appear on Jack's cheeks, but the sight made your heart leap. How could the smallest flush of colour be so adorable and attractive in equal measure?

“Is it alright if I take a look?”

You hated the thought of anyone seeing your body, let alone the person you loved seeing the markings of the man who hurt you, but you also knew you were in hospital and this was your doctor concerned for your health. You pushed down the blankets, and Jack gave you the slightest nod to double check if it was OK. When you nodded back, Jack took the edges of your nightie and slowly and gently pulled it up, fingers softly grazing your skin.

Jack sharply gasped when he saw the bruises, a deep blue and black spreading from your just below your waistline across most of your right hip, and a smaller purple bruise on your lower ribcage. He lightly touched the skin around the bruising on your hip.

“Y/N/N,” Jack said softly, looking up at you with pleading eyes.

You took that the wrong way.

“I know. Alright? I know, it's ugly, I'm ugly, and I'm scarred, I'm damaged.” Jack looked up at you with those big eyes that you loved, care and concern brimming his eyes as the words you'd been keeping flowed out. “I hate this all so much. I hate the bruises, the scars, I hate how I feel unsafe in my own mind, that I am unsafe in my own home. I hate how one minute we're all children, safe and adored, and bruises can be solved with a quick kiss better, and the next we're adults, the bruises last and kisses complicate.” You sniffled. “I wish all this could be healed so simply as a kiss better.” You went to wipe your eyes, but Jack beat you too it, quick as a flash, drying your tears and looking into your eyes with a playful smirk. Though he was too scared to let it show, his heart was nearly beating out of his chest as he spoke.

“I'm not magic, but as your doctor, I'd like to give it a shot.”

“What?” you asked, heart caught in your throat, assuming he was kidding or just about to kiss your cheek.

“A kiss.” You looked at each other for a moment. “To stop the pain.” Jack clarified, backtracking with fear. You merely nodded.

The hand that was cupping your cheeks after drying your tears softly trailed down your arm, turning it over so the bandage covering the cut was facing him. Jack raised your arm to his lips, and though you couldn't feel it past the bandage, you fought yourself to maintain composure. Jack turned your arm back and held your hand, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb. He looked into your eyes as he brushed his lips against your knuckles. His lips were soft as they touched your fingers, and you were speechless. A small shiver worked it's way down your spine.

You mistakenly thought Jack would stop there, but Dodger was nothing if not bold as he shimmed back to kiss around your bruised waist. Feather-light fingers gently touched you before settling on your waist, as he lowered his mouth to the top of your bruise, just under your ribs. Small pecks peppered all around your bruise, inching lower, until the kisses became more. More sure, more of a kiss than a peck, but light enough to leaving you longing. By the time Jack had gotten to the base of your bruise, you were breathing hard and suppressing a moan by biting your lip as one of his hands was on your inner knee, the other near your bruise, partly on your hip, partly on your ass. He slowed down slightly, looking up at you with what could only be described as hunger and desperation, as though he'd been wanting you for so long that he could barely contain himself.

“Jack-” you whispered.

There was a knock on the front door and Jack barely had time to pull your nightgown back over your legs and sit up when Hetty came in.

“Sir, we've got-” Hetty faltered for only a moment upon seeing your flushed cheeks and Jack's red lips and ruffled shirt. “Ah, we've got three new patients for you to see before midday, if you're free soon?”

You were mad at Hetty for interrupting, but grateful for her grace and tact.

“Yes, yes of course, I was almost on my way out, just give me one moment with Miss Y/L/N, please.”

Hetty lowered her head and closed the door behind her.

For a minute, neither of you could look each other in the eye, too scared of what you'd show and what you would or wouldn't see back. Jack broke the silence.

“So,” he cleared his throat. “Er, if you need anything, at anytime, call the nurses and ask for me, alright? Even if you start to feel distressed for only a moment, even from your own mind, call for me. I don't want you to be alone right now. I-I can't let you get hurt, Y/N. You're-” he stopped himself before he could say 'my world', adding instead “you mean too much to me.”

And with that, Jack slipped out of the room, leaving you to analyze the kisses. You already felt better.

Thanks for reading! If you like this, please consider buying me a coffee <3

[ilikekidsshows]

Look, I know one shouldn't be so harsh on how badly it was handled that Marinette never has to face any push back from Adrichat for her own massive flaws, and instead she's just validated and all her wrongdoings get swept under the rug

But I still think it's WILD that Marinette in Pretention was made to at least somewhat acknowledge in front of Adrien that her stalking was bad, and yet she straight up justified it by saying "I did it out of love" (which only make her sound MORE like an ex-stalker???) while full blown pouting that she has to even accept that "much" accountability in the first place:

Like, girl, come on. What even IS that? xD

It is almost hilarious how pissed Marinette was written to be about giving such minimal lip service to the character growth the show pretends she had somewhere OFF-SCREEN. She is literally acting like a person who wasn't actually held accountable but was forced into begrudgingly accepting that maybe what they did wasn't as perfectly justified as they thought and now is giving a puddle deep apology they don't truly mean.

---

Marinette only ever apologizes these days when she also has a justification, which makes her apologies sound just like a Youtube Apology Video(™): “I’m sorry if I offended the viewers, but I was totally justified (and therefore would do it again).” She only apologizes to placate the audience. And that scene isn’t even an apology, it’s her giving excuses because Kagami dared to call her out on acting no different from the Adrien fans Marinette herself was criticizing. The showrunners are trying so hard to counter common criticisms of the show to the audience and it shows.

It’s also really obvious that the writers think that “I did it for love” is a suitable excuse. This has always been the distinction between Marinette and the hordes of Adrien groupies the city of Paris is crawling with: Marinette loves him genuinely. All those other people just gush about Adrien and follow him whenever they spot him around town because he’s a hot model while Marinette gushes about him and follows him around because he’s a hot model who was nice to her that one time. Clearly that makes Marinette’s love more pure. Besides, Marinette has already claimed Adrien by the Right of Protagonist, so she has the right to know what he’s doing every moment of every single day while those other people are creepy stalkers.

I also find it hilarious that they make her talk like a recovered ex-stalker when, once again, the writers are claiming something that’s never been shown. There is no evidence Marinette has “recovered” from her stalking habit, because the reason she stopped stalking Adrien isn’t that she had some kind of realization that what she was doing was too far or uncalled for, it is that she stopped having a reason to stalk him. First she isn’t stalking Adrien because she’s convincing herself she’s no longer in love with him. Her not being in love means there’s no reason to stalk Adrien. After that Adrien starts dating her, meaning she already has what she wants: Adrien to herself, so there’s no need to stalk him to make sure no other girl sinks her claws into him. She might not really know Adrien at all, but she at least knows enough to know he’s loyal.

And, like, even after they started dating, Marinette has gone behind Adrien’s back to the Agreste Mansion because he’s “keeping things from her” or because she has to question Nathalie about his whereabouts. This girl is so obsessed with knowing every detail about what Adrien is doing, getting what she wanted only mitigates it. Which is why she’s back to spying on him with binoculars in the sneak peek for the upcoming season 6.

[seokmattchuus]

Prove It - Seok Matthew (Extended Ver.)

A/n: 1. Ignore the gif, I found it in my files and decided it was The One™ 2. A single person asked for this and who am I to deny them (I have had the worst writers block, and this was doable). You're welcome, or I'm sorry, I don't know. 3. I don't remember if this was proofread.

Coming home early wasn't an often occurrence. Being a teacher, you were technically supposed to be home an hour after dismissal, but realistically, you weren't home till early evening. Today, however, was a half day, and you were more than happy to be able to spend the rest of your day cuddled up with your boyfriend.

You didn't expect to walk into an empty home, but you perked up when you heard him on the phone in your shared bedroom. You excitedly placed your bags down and made your way to the room, your hand reaching for the door before the sound of the other person speaking up stopped you.

"Does it ever kill you that she's two years older?" You overheard Hanbin through Matthew's phone. "I mean. Everyone knows you like being called 'oppa', are you okay with her never calling you that?"

"It's not like she hasn't called me it before." Matthew scoffed. "She's called me 'oppa' plenty of times." He was lying, but Hanbin didn't know that.

"Playfully, probably." Hanbin's voice flattened.

"Dude. It's not a deal breaker." Matthew defended. "So what if she doesn't say it? It's not like I'll die if I don't hear it." He paused. "Besides, she's a foreigner. She barely uses honorifics with anyone."

"I see how your ears perk up when girls call y-"

You quickly removed yourself from earshot. Your eyes quickly scanning for the quietest way out of the area.

You slowly made your way back to the door before opening it and closing it harsher than before so he could hear.

"Babe, I'm home!" You called, staying in place in case he made his way towards you.

There was a moment of silence before you heard him coming out of the room.

"You're home early." He smiled at you. He really didn't look like he was having the conversation he was. "I was expecting you a little later."

"You say that like you had plans." You raised a playful brow. "Don't tell you threw her in the closet?"

"Closet?" He scoffed as he made his way towards you, throwing his arms around you. "She jumped out the window when she heard you pull up."

You both laughed as he placed a kiss on your cheek, and you wondered if he really meant what he said.

"So why are you early?" He smiled as he pulled away, leading the both of you to the couch.

You'd never used honorifics, he was right about that, but you wanted to test just how 'okay' he was with you not calling him anything.

"I was grading papers with Taekwoon oppa." You scanned his face for a reaction. "He's been helping me a lot with Korean. I'm even getting more comfortable with honorifics." You put a smile on your face.

"Oh?" He said, his tone unreadable. "Who else do use honorifics with?"

His voice trailed off and it killed you inside. You shouldn't have said anything, but why wouldn't he just tell you to call him that to begin with? You would have gladly done it. But with how he seems to want to keep it hidden, how could you bring it up first? What if he said he didn't mean it or brushed you off?

"Just him for now." You nodded. "Everyone else around me is either my age or younger." You shrugged. It was true. The school you worked for was relatively new, so it was full of mostly new graduates. The only people older than you were admin, but you rarely ever ran into them because Taekwoon handled everything as the head teacher.

There was a silence that took over and you shuffled in your spot.

"What made him the first guy you use honorifics with?" His gave you a glace, a firm hand falling on your knee. It would have been harmless had you not known the context.

"He takes care of me a lot." You started, and his hand on you tightened. "He's also always looking out for me. He took the blame for a couple of my fuck ups, too."

You paused as you thought about your next statement.

"And he's not a 'guy' to you. He's a hyung." You corrected him, trying to sound like you were upset over it.

He rose a brow at you.

"Not the foreigner correcting my Korean." He scoffed, his annoyance growing the longer you talked about him.

"Tough talk for another foreigner, Mr. Maple." You reminded him. "And you can't blame me for assimilating." You shrugged, the silence slowly creeping back in your space.

"He is some guy to me, though." His hand removed itself from you. "I'm literally always taking care of you, too." Disbelief coated his tone as he turned to fully look at you. "That time when you got too drunk at your staff party and I carried you home." He started. "That time when your ankles were cut from your shoes being too tight so I ran to get you some slippers and a first aid kit from the nearest convenience store." He continued, his speech picking up in pace. "Not to mention I always take you your stuff before you even realize you've forgotten it." He paused. "Doesn't that count as taking care of you?"

There it was.

"I'm older than you. Not to mention we're dating. I thought you were just being caring. In love and all that." You reminded him. You were going to get him to air it out. "I think you keep forgetting that aspect." You sighed. "When an older person takes care of you, it's different."

"I'm younger but you had no problem calling me 'daddy'." He scoffed at your reasoning, landing him a pillow to the face. He spoke up after recovering. "Calling me 'oppa' wouldn't kill you."

"That was just once." You muttered in defense. "And I was drunk." You cleared your throat, surprised at how quickly the conversation turned.

"Keep telling yourself that." He rolled his eyes. "Besides, it wouldn't hurt to say it just once." He leaned in, his face right in front of yours. "I won't tell anyone." He said in a sing-song voice.

It was your turn to snicker now. You expected him to take the jealous route, not playful. But there was a part of you that wanted to see where he was going with this.

"What's it to you?" You tilted your head. "I thought you liked being my little baby~" You teased, your hand going to pinch his cheek. He groaned, swatting your hand away.

"Because I'm not a little baby." He narrowed his eyes at you. "It's two years between us. Not twenty." You watched as he kept the look on his face.

"How about this." You started. "I'll say it once."

"How about always?" He was quick to respond, giving you his best puppy eyes and you couldn't help but want to cave.

"Since you want it so bad," You paused, watching his expression turn expectant. "What do I get if I do it?"

His eyebrow twitched as the latter part of your sentence came out.

"How about a bet, then?" He smiled as he leaned over you, your back gradually leaning until you were laying on the couch. "If you can keep quiet until I'm done with you, I'll drop it."

You swallowed at the sudden shift in atmosphere. Did a simple title mean that much to him?

His arm moved to support him while he hovered over you and you could feel his thigh moving to press on your own in an attempt to open them. The little amount of space giving you no room to try and fight it.

"But if you can't." He smirked, his head dipping down so his lips were brushing lightly against yours. "You can't call me anything else."

His thigh had succeeded in passing yours and you let out a shaky breath at the contact. His eyes flicked towards yours and you saw the corner of his mouth curve into a smirk.

"Deal?"

It wasn't like you to give in so easily, even if you looked like you would. But something about seeing this side of him made you want more. Despite the tiny age gap you had, he didn't submit to you, and you never dominated him. But there were lines you never really crossed when it came to sex. He never pushed you too hard and you never tested him.

Until today.

"We have a deal." You mimicked his smirk as you toyed with the top button of his shirt. "But what do I get if I make it?" You tilted your head slightly as you freed the top button, working your way down.

He closed the gap between the two of you, his lips working gently against yours as he let out a shaky breath from your cold hands grazing his torso.

"You're already losing, baby." You smirked as you pulled away, giving him your most innocent gaze. "So much for being an 'oppa'." You whispered the last part.

His thigh finally pressed firmly against you, your pencil skirt riding up with it. You stiffened at the force but stayed quiet.

"It's a matter of pride at this point, baby." You smiled sweetly as you pulled his shirt down his shoulders, your fingers softly running over his arms in admiration. "If you want to be an oppa so bad," You paused as you licked your lips.

"Prove it."

"I just realized." He smirked as he used his free hand to pull his shirt completely off. "I've never called you noona to your face." He chuckled before getting up and walking backwards. "Only to others when I'm talking about you." He was leaning on the corner of the wall.

"Is this your way of accepting you're not oppa material?" You sat up, partially annoyed that he just up and left you.

"No." He said. "I was expecting you to follow." He turned and kept walking, his back disappearing from view. "The bed's bigger than the couch, y'know." He called out.

Your eyes squinted at the thought of what he was planning but you were also too worked up to care. You slowly got up and made your way to your shared bedroom, partially taken back when you saw the bed empty and Matthew standing by the door.

"Go ahead, noona, lay down. Get comfortable." He nudged with his head and you stared skeptically.

Despite your doubts, your hands moved to remove the skirt, your hips swaying as you pushed them down. You watched as he looked you over before you moved towards the bed and sat down.

"Pretty boy," You started as you removed your own shirt, smiling as his eyes went straight to your chest. "Noona doesn't have the same effect on me," You paused to slowly trail your hands behind you to undo your bra. You lightly tossed it off the bed before you were back on your chest, fingers gently running over your nipples as you whispered your next sentence. "As oppa does on you."

His jaw tightened as he watched you, and he was tempted to throw his whole plan out of the window. Sure, it was a stretch to think the word would work on you, but you miss all the shots you don't take.

"What can oppa do to me that I can't already do to myself?" You challenged as you rose a brow, your hands moving to your underwear and slipping inside. It was about time you got somewhere with this.

"Show me how much you can do then." His thumb was digging its nail into his index finger as he watched you. "But don't cry about it when you can't make yourself cum."

There was a minor truth to his words. Since the start of your relationship, you'd never needed to touch yourself or use your toys. He'd left you more than satisfied and now you were nervous your shit talking was about to backfire.

You moved back until you were snug against the headboard, your eyes darting towards the nightstand where your toys laid.

"Don't you think that's cheating, noona?" He tsked. "You said what you could do. Toys don't count." He smiled slyly. "Besides, the last time you used them, they were in my hand." He scoffed at the memory. "And you couldn't keep too quiet."

You momentarily forgot about the deal, and you scratched the idea. Your eyes fell back on his and you reached for the waistband of your underwear, slowly peeling them off before tossing them to the side. You didn't miss how his eyes traced every move you made, but you didn't call him out on it.

You didn't bother teasing yourself. Not only because you were already turned on, but this wasn't about getting off; it was about making him cave. It was also about being able to stay quiet. If you weren't committed, it'd be easier to win.

Your hands were quick to slide past your clit and into you. Your fingers weren't as long as his, giving you absolutely nothing. You let out a small, frustrated sigh.

"I heard that." He was quick to call.

"But you're not the one causing it." You countered. "So, it doesn't count." He rolled his eyes.

You were both too stubborn to cave, your egos too strong to want to admit defeat. But maybe he'd cave if you put a little more effort into your show. He was always quick to jump at a chance to please you.

When he saw you avoiding your clit, he knew you were stalling. His head tilted slightly as he watched your squirm from the lack of stimulation.

"I can help." His voice was sickly sweet, and your stomach tightened. "You know I'm better at this than you are." He moved towards you, slowly getting on the bed.

His words were proven true when he slapped your hand away, quickly replacing it with his own. Your mouth fell open in a silent moan, eyes closing when his thumb met your clit.

"You're all talk noona," He tsked. "I don't know why you make things harder for yourself."

You couldn't respond. You knew the second you opened your mouth, you'd make a sound that would count against you. You weren't even sure if he was keeping count or if you'd lose the second anything slipped out of you.

"What's wrong, baby?" He teased, using the same tone you did when you called him the same name earlier. He angled his fingers, a surge of pride flowing through him when a whine came out of you. "There she is~" He cooed, his thumb running harsh circles against your clit.

This was about getting you off. And his actions mixed with the way he looked down at you had you clenching. It was embarrassing how quickly he turned things around.

"Don't tell me you're cumming already?" He pouted down at you, quickly removing his hand, letting out a sadistic laugh when your fist balled up to keep quiet. "Where's the fun in that?" His fingers ghosted over your legs, the feeling making your thighs shake.

"Maybe I should make you beg me to let you cum." His eyes lit up at the thought. "You'd definitely be a mess at that point, no?"

"That's not fair." You were sporting your own pout this time while you tried to control your breathing. "So much for not cheating."

"Don't look at me like that noona." He tilted his head to the side, his fingers slowly making their way back to you. "All you had to do was say one little word but no," He cooed at you. "You wanted to make it interesting." He held back a laugh as you flinched when his finger ghosted over your clit. The corner of his lip twitching into a smirk instead.

"You could have told me you wanted me to call you that little word." Your voice was strained as he kept his contact light. "I would have done it, y'know."

His eyebrow rose, but he rewarded your hypothetical compliance with more pressure.

"Well, when you put it that way," He started, his finger working faster against you. "It makes this little bet seem worthless, no?" He licked his lips when your hand came up to grab at his forearm. "Too bad my ego's already bruised."

His free hand moved to grab your wrist before collecting the other one and pinning them above your head before his fingers were back in you. Same angle, faster pace.

You really chose the wrong button to push.

"C'mon, noona," He rasped when you immediately clenched around him again. "Just give up, already." His tone was softer, trying to coax you before leaning down and taking one of your nipples into his mouth. His teeth pulled at it while looking up at you. He let go, placing a kiss over your breast. "Wouldn't it be more enjoyable if you didn't have to fight it so hard?"

You let out a shaky breath. As much as you wanted to, something inside you refused to let yourself fail that easily. But at the same time, his fingers just felt too good.

"I know you're close," He groaned. "I can feel it." His eyes softened, pleading while letting out a moan of his own. "Just let go, noona."

His moan trigged something inside you and your legs shook as a pathetic cry slipped past you. You couldn't help the whines that followed while he helped you ride out your orgasm, his thumb hitting your clit intentionally. His hold on your wrists constant while he let you come down.

"Sounds like you lost." He chuckled and your eyes widened. You were about to cut him off and accuse him of cheating when he spoke up again.

"Did I take care of you?" He asked innocently, his hand slipping away from you and towards his mouth, his mouth covering them to clean them. His eyes stayed on yours until he finished. "In a way that Taekwoon couldn't?"

You didn't bother entertaining him. Too focused on trying to get your wrists out of his hold.

"We both know I'm stronger than you." His hold tightened and pushed your wrists further into the mattress as if to prove he wasn't using full force. "So, let's not embarrass you anymore."

"I'm not embarrassed. I'm mad you cheated." You narrowed your eyes at him. "Don't think I missed the mild overstimulation you tried."

He shrugged his shoulders, a sly smirk growing.

"It was an accident."

You fought more in his hold, wanting to wipe the smirk off his face.

"I'll let you go if you ask nicely." His smirk was now fully on display, giving your wrists another squeeze as if to remind you of the bet.

You both held eye contact as if the other would cave the longer you stared. He played dirty and you were still upset.

"If you say it, I'll give you a reward~" He cooed and you tried to buck him off of you, your face reddening as the situation wasn't in your favor. "Say the magic words and it's all over." He smirked, radiating pride as he watched you struggle.

"Let me go, please." You narrowed your eyes, still defiant. Even when he leaned back over you, his eyes right above yours.

"Try that one more time." There was a shift in his tone that had you swallowing hard.

You took a deep breath.

"Please, oppa." You said through gritted teeth. "Let me go."

You saw his lips tug again.

"Since you made me jealous earlier, don't you think it's fair I get to do the same?" He tilted his head and your eyes narrowed at him again. He debated on if his next sentence would land the way he hoped. "Say it the way Ji-"

"Oppa," You put some sweetness in your tone, a stark contradiction to the sudden strength your gained in trying to get out his hold. He was momentarily stunned before regaining control. "Please let me go."

"Well now I'm scared." He started.

"Don't be, oppa." Your eyes were already on the pillow to your side. At least he could die happy. "Why would you be scared of little ol' me."

"Actually. We can just chill right here." He nodded. "Neither of us have plans."

"Matthew." You started. "You have three seconds." You smiled up at him. "If you're such an oppa, I shouldn't be this scary to you."

He reluctantly let you go but was quick enough to jump to the other side of the bed to avoid you lunging at him. You were also just as quick to grab the pillow and make it on top of him, the pillow colliding with face.

"Who was she?" You said as you hit him again.

"I made up a name! I swear!!" He yelled before grabbing at the pillow and throwing it. His hands grabbing your wrists again when you reached for his shoulders. "Pinky promise." He tried, bringing your hands to his lips so he could press a kiss to them. "How can I make it up to you?"

You gave him a frown and moved to get up, his hands moving to your hips to keep you in place.

"C'mon~" He whined. "There has to be something."

He was too cute to stay mad at. You'd get him back later.

"You could start by joining me." You motioned to your naked form. You got up to give him space to work with.

"You gotta admit, though." He watched your face as his hands went for his belt. "Calling you noona did do something for you." He gave you a knowing look. "I've never made you cum that quick."

"Do you not remember you moaned when you said it?" You gave him a small slap against his chest while he threw his belt to the side. "And you did that thing where you made your eyes all cute." You slapped him again, his laugh filling the room. "You could say anything acting like that and I'd probably cave."

"Really, now?" He smirked at the confession, his hands moving to unbutton his pants, the sound of his zipper following. "Then forgive me for the jealousy thing." His eyes held the look you just described. He let out a small 'hm?' that sounded too much like a moan.

"Oppa was wrong."