#they are so different but why does this do something to me help

[classyrbf]

THAT D!CK IS A 10/10! — JJK MEN

SYNOPSIS...an analysis on the jjk men’s dicks just because hehe :)

INFO...jjk men x gn!reader, we’re talking about cock and balls a lot (no seriously), cum analysis, where they like to cum, heavy detail (be warned), im trying to make this a little realistic so no, gojo will not have a 12 inch dick (sorry not sorry), not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

here’s a little something while I’m being a busy bee and dealing with life (help me)

GOJO

to start off, gojo isn’t too big or isn’t small either, if anything he’s just perfect (cause he is perfect duh). He’s around 3 inches soft and 6.6 inches hard. Listen, as much as I want to make this man have the hugest dick ever, he does not and it’d cause an extreme amount of pain every time he is pounding you. He’s not too girthy either, just the average 4.3. His also slightly curves upward which is perfect for hitting your sweet spot. But he’s super sensitive on the tip! So if you tease him too much there he might just cum prematurely. His balls are definitely a decent size too, they may be on the bigger side a little but he loves to have his balls played with so have fun! When gojo cums, he cums a lot! It literally will go all over the place if he can’t control it correctly. It’s spurts out in waves and it sometimes it’s like torture cause it makes his orgasms last longer but god does it feel so good. His cum is sort of thin and runny instead of thick and goopy with a slight salty taste.

NANAMI

i personally feel like nanami is fucking packing girth wise! He is slightly smaller than gojo around like 5.75-6 inches but he is fucking girthy! It’s like a damn weapon and it’s heavy (I’ll help you carry it around nanami, don’t you worry). His girth is around 5.5-6 inches and it’s veiny! Lord help us all because he knows how to use that thing, hitting all the right angles. From being so girthy his cock slightly hangs…So what comes with a fat cock? Big breeder balls! Duh! His balls are so fat and big it’s like an instinct to suck and lick on them. He leaks a lot of precum when he’s hard so it just drips from his cock until he cums so hard. Speaking of cum, unlike gojo he has more of a thicker consistency, and instead of spurting out all over, it just flows from his cock and it’s looks so pretty like a fountain. It drips all down his cock and balls and onto his hand if he’s jerking himself off. When he’s fucking you, he definitely cums inside and just fucks his cum into you over and over until he makes a big mess.

TOJI

my man, my man, my man! Toji is definitely bigger than nanami and gojo but only by like 1-2 inches. So he’s around 7 inches which is still scary bc why are just walking around with that? He’s definitely girthy too but not like nanami, he’s more girthy around the tip of his cock and it gets slightly smaller towards the base but it’s not a huge difference. He’s tip gets really pink and red when he’s hard that it almost looks painful (don’t worry baby I’m on my way to help) but I promise he’s fine. Dare I say that doesn’t trim that often???? I feel like he has a slightly bush, nothing too crazy but it’s kind of grown out. He doesn’t care (me neither) as long as he gets laid he’s fine. His balls are mix of nanami and gojos but they hang! So when he’s fucking you they definitely slap against your skin. When toji cums it’s pretty normal, it’s sometimes shoots out a little bit and then slows down after, but it’s definitely a good amount of cum that does come out quickly. He loves to see your face or your chest covered in it because he’s a pervy little bastard for sure.

GETO

pretty boy geto hehe…let’s just say that thing curves to the left okay? He’s around 6.5-7 inches and girthy so let’s pray for everyone’s holes cause I don’t think we are making it out alive. He’s somewhere between nanami’s and Toji’s girth so…do what you will with that info. His dick is so pretty though, a pretty dick for a pretty face, the curtains match the drapes yk? He has two prominent veins that run on the underside of his dick where he’s really sensitive. If you look closely you’ll see them pulsing when he’s hard. His tip is also a very pretty pink color while his shaft and base are slightly darker than his skin tone. His balls aren’t too big either so it’s definitely more about his dick. He doesn’t cum a lot either surprisingly, he’s never been the cum everywhere and get super messy type of person but if hasnt had sex or jerked off it’ll be more than usual.

CHOSO

choso is closer to nanamis size, maybe a little smaller but not a huge difference. His is pretty average but there is nothing wrong with that (can I get free ride???). Just like geto he also has a very pink tip and his shaft is the same color as his skin. His girth is around Gojo’s but he has some big balls that are just asking to licked and sucked fr. Baby boy gets so whiny when he’s hard and leaking that he’s almost embarrassed by it, he tries to control it but he literally can’t stop getting so hard to point it drives him insane. His cum is stringy and thick, like the perfect consistency for cumming on your face, chest, ass, literally anywhere. He cums a normal amount, usually spurts out super quickly and then slows down towards the end of his orgasm.

SUKUNA

where do I even begin??? Clearly, this mf is the biggest out of all of them. He’s scary asf because he has two, yes, two dicks that are practically identical. 8-9 inches long, 4.7 girth. End my life. THIS MF GOT 4 LEGS. It’s actually cruel. They’re thicker towards the base and gradually get narrow towards the tip. So at first, the stretch doesn’t seem that bad until you realize you got about 7 inches more to go…yeah. His cocks are darker than the rest of his body and his tips are sort of like a light pink/tan color. The only difference between his cocks is that one is super veiny and the other quite literally has like 3 veins. Fat breeder balls that hang, swing, touch the floor (I’m jk) but literally the mix of toji and nanamis balls. They hold so much cum, he can literally go round for round back to back and fill up every hole of yours without taking a break. And he cums so much that it’s actually concerning. Like nanami, its overflows maybe once in a while it will shoot out.

HIGURUMA

believe it or not I think this man is packing at least 7-8 inches. It may not look like it but I think he does! He never brags about it either so it’s really hard to guess. When he’s hard his dick touches his belly button…and his balls are somewhere between Geto’s and Gojo’s size so they’re kinda average. The color is slightly tan maybe like one shade darker and he has a pale pink tip. Did I mention he has a fat tip?? It seems like it gets even bigger when he’s hard, all swollen and everything. His girth is pretty average too like Gojo’s maybe slightly bigger like 4.5 but that’s it. Higuruma doesn’t cum that much it like toji where it’s a pretty normal amount. His cum isn’t super white either, it’s kind of on the clear side and super stringy which is perfect for cumming on your tongue imo

[snoopyracing]

grapes and good fortune // ln4

pairing: lando norris X reader

word count: 4.7k

warnings: cursing and alcohol use

includes: friends to lovers, mutual pining, and fluff

summary: when your plan to find love on new year's eve doesn't work a certain someone may just fix those plans.

a/n: surprise! here's a cute little lando nye fic for you! it was so fun to write and i hope you all enjoy :)

masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

It’s not the end of the world to be single. You’ve gone your whole life technically being single– each guy you’ve had a thing with never resulted in a full fledged relationship. It never really seemed to bother you that much, you’d learned to be more independent and learned that your time is in fact more valuable than men think. Though, as the years passed and your friends started to get into serious relationships you couldn’t help but feel a little left behind.

You knew everyone’s time would come and seriously you were in your early to mid twenties – you still had a whole lifetime ahead of you. But the third wheeling you seemed to be a professional at by now was starting to get embarrassing. Also, holidays just really seemed to suck while being single. You knew there was more to life than being in a relationship, but god dammit you’re a human. You crave love and affection and no matter how independent you are– you still want to love and be loved. 

Your friend group had unsuccessfully tried setting you up with more guys than you could count. Each one you really did try and give a chance, but there was nothing there. You didn’t think you had high standards by any means, but if you didn’t feel anything with these guys then why waste your time? 

“You went on how many dates this month and none of them piqued your interest?” Your friend grills you as the two of you are sitting on the balcony of your apartment. You’d come back from another unsuccessful date and decided to drown your sorrows with a bottle of wine and a yapping session. 

“Genuinely think there might be something wrong with me at this point.” You complain as you sip the sweet wine in your glass. 

“There isn’t anything wrong with you.” The two dates a week for the past month say different, but you weren’t going to actually disclose that number to her. “Maybe your heart has already laid claim to someone else?” 

“I think I would know if I was in love with someone.” She doesn’t say anything, but the way she inconspicuously sips her wine is telling you what she’s wanting to say. “Not this again.” 

She puts her hands up in defense all while having a shit eating grin on her face. “I didn’t even say anything, but you immediately assuming that’s who I’m talking about says it all.” 

“I’m not in love with Lando.” 

Yes you were. 

“I mean he’s one of my closest friends and it would just make things weird. He also for sure does not look at me in any way other than platonic. He’s got models flocking to him and literally thousands of other girls– I couldn’t compete.” Your friend remains silent once again as she sips her wine and watches the scene in front of her unfold. “Ok– just because I drunkenly admitted last year that I might possibly have a little tiny miniscule amount of feelings towards him does not mean I’m in love with him.” 

“Yes it does.” Your friend replies without missing a beat. 

“No it doesn’t” You say with a huff. 

“Y/N, babe. You don’t see what everyone else sees and maybe your brain is trying to protect itself from the small chance of destruction, but you two are so in love it’s actually ridiculous.” 

“I don’t think he’s looking for a relationship right now. If this season so far is any indication of what next season is gonna be like, do you really think he’ll want a serious relationship to juggle too?” You’d chugged the last bit of wine in your glass and immediately filled it back up. 

A loud scoff comes from your friend. “With some girl he just met? No. You are a whole different story though. You two have history and are quite literally each other’s person. Two peas in a pod. Match made in heaven.” 

You didn’t understand why your friend was so adamant about Lando and you getting together. What if it ended in flames and your friend group is stuck having to play children of divorce? You don’t want that. 

“Do you hear yourself right now? I think you’ve had too much wine because that’s not true.” 

She sits up on the edge of the wicker couch with an annoyed expression painted across her face  “Do you hear yourself? I’ve never seen someone deny themselves happiness like you.” 

“I don’t think I have actual feelings for Lando though. I really think it’s just because we are the only two single people in our friend group and it’s like I feel obligated to somehow have feelings for him. I just need to find the right person and whatever I may be feeling about Lando will go away.” 

If someone could professionally roll their eyes your friend would be a pro. “You’ve already found the right person though!”

Before you can argue back for the hundredth time tonight the familiar tune of an incoming facetime call fills the air. Your phone that’s sitting on the glass coffee table lights up and Lando’s face fills the screen. You glance over at your friend who’s got a smirk on her face that could rival the Cheshire Cat. 

“Speak of the devil.” She laughs. 

You let it ring, fully knowing that if you answer it your friend will be insufferable the whole time you’re talking to him. You do send him a quick text to make sure everything's alright and of course he immediately responds with-

everything's all right.. just missed you is all. 

Which has you locking your phone and stuffing it in the pocket of your hoodie. When you reach for your glass and realize it’s empty again you decide to just grab the bottle and drink straight from it. 

“Drinking from the bottle because you’ve come to terms with how dumb you’ve been?” Your friend teases. 

“Nope. It’s from having to deal with you all evening.” 

Alright so maybe you did have actual feelings for Lando, but you were never going to fully admit that to your friend or anyone else for that matter. You didn’t want to risk ruining what you two already had, which was an amazing friendship. So for the following months you continue to go on an endless amount of dates and with each one that fails your friend's voice rings in your mind.

Maybe you wouldn’t be able to find someone else if you subconsciously compared every guy to Lando. They were never funny enough or charming enough or took themselves too seriously. In the end it was simply the fact that they weren’t Lando. So maybe your heart had already dug its claws into Lando, but you weren’t going to give up without one last battle. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

New Year's Eve. The final night of the year and the one party of the year that celebrates ends and beginnings. You’d hoped that with the plan you had for tonight that your streak of horrible dates would end and the next one would be the one. The trend of eating twelve grapes under a table at midnight on New Year’s Eve had been all over your social media. According to the internet if you were to do this you’d find love or your soulmate the following year– which was something you were so desperate for. So, your said plan was to bring some grapes with you and find a table to sit under. 

As you were taking one last final look in the mirror a familiar British accent echoed through your apartment. “Are you almost ready?” 

You quickly slipped on your heels and grabbed your bag off the dresser, but by the time you turned around there stood Lando, leaning against your doorframe with a slight smirk on his face. “Been waiting forever. It’s gonna be next year by the time we get out of here.” 

His teasing, which usually always got a reaction out of you, was ignored. The sight of him had you frozen in your tracks for a moment. He had on a white button up, which he always looked good in, but it was the couple of undone buttons at the top and the necklace you got him for his birthday last year around his neck that got your attention. There was always something about seeing Lando in things you got him that made that funny feeling bloom in your stomach. Perhaps it was the fact that everytime he chose to wear them you knew he was thinking about you and that when he was away a part of you was always with him. 

“Quit staring.” 

You're knocked out of your trance and the blush that creeps onto your cheeks from getting caught is almost as embarrassing as being caught. “I wasn’t staring. I was admiring my good taste. Should have gotten one myself.” You try to play it off and push your way past him with what little amount of confidence you have at the moment. 

“I’ll get it for you, then we can be matching.” Lando says as he follows behind you. 

“I can buy it myself.” 

“Yeah, but I’m still gonna get it for you anyways.”

You stop in the kitchen and grab the little bag of grapes out of the fridge. “I don’t need you to get it for me Lan.” You’re too preoccupied with figuring out how to fit everything into your small purse to see the utterly confused look on Lando’s face. 

“Ok forget about the necklace. Why the hell are you bringing grapes with you?” 

“Incase I get hungry.” You reply without missing a beat. 

“There will literally be food at the party. I even made sure Max got those little cocktail sausages you like.” 

And there he goes again, making those feelings you’ve tried and are still presently trying to push down come to the surface all because of some damn cocktail sausages. “I appreciate that Lan, but I’ve been on a grape kick lately. Just can’t seem to get enough of them.” 

With your purse finally closed with the grapes securely inside, you head towards the door, more than ready to get to the party. 

“I’ll text Max and tell him to get some grapes delivered.” Lando mumbles as he closes the door behind him. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

You’d never considered yourself much of a party girl, but there must have been something in the air tonight because you were living it up. From the dancing to the drinking and then to top it off somehow in the middle of everything you showed off your DJing skills with Lando. 

Somehow you’d managed to unglue yourself from Lando for a moment and ended up in the kitchen among the various kinds of alcohol. You’re pouring the last bit of coke into your coke and malibu when Max comes up beside you. 

“I see you finally escaped from Lando for a moment.” 

An airy laugh emits from you. “Yeah, he’s been a little clingy tonight.” You state as you turn and lean back against the counter, facing the large crowd of people. 

Max copies your actions, but not before grabbing a beer. “What are you talking about tonight? When he’s back home it’s like you two are conjoined at the hip.”  Which was true, but you didn’t get to see Lando as much as you’d like, so you make the most of what you can. “Oh forgot to tell you, your grapes are in the fridge.” He motions towards the stainless steel appliance with his beer bottle. “Lando better pay me back. Do you know how much I paid to get that damn bag delivered? Absolutely insane.” 

Your mouth forms an ‘O’ shape at Max’s words. “I heard him mention something about asking you to get some when we were leaving. I thought he was just joking.” 

Max scoffs. “There is no such thing as Lando joking when it comes to you. Think he’d chop off his own arm to make sure you were happy. Hell if you needed an organ he’d be the first one in line to give you one.” 

This time it’s your turn to scoff. “No he wouldn’t.” 

“Why do you do that?” Max groans. 

You narrow your eyes at him, confused as to what he was referring to. “Do what?” 

“Act like he doesn’t think the world of you.” 

Your mouth opens to reply, but no words come out. Instead you bring your cup to your lips and fill the void with your drink. What Max had said was true, but you couldn’t help it. You figured if you forced yourself to think that Lando didn’t care that deeply about you, then those feelings that you harbor for him wouldn’t rise to the surface. It didn’t help that his behavior recently had you thinking that perhaps he felt the same about you and when you have your mutual friends in your ear implying that to be true it just makes things that much harder for you. 

“You probably haven’t even noticed that he’s been practically watching us talk this whole time have you?” 

You can feel your heart rate start to speed up just at the thought of it. As your eyes scan the room they finally land on the Brit standing in the corner with some other people, but he’s not actually engaging in the conversation, he’s too busy staring back at you. Somehow from across the room you can still see those pretty mixture of blue and green eyes of his sparkle and when he realizes you're finally looking back at him a shy smile spreads across his face before he’s quickly looking away. 

“Wish you two would stop dancing around each other and just admit what we all already know.” Max mumbles before taking a swig of his beer. 

Maybe it’s the mixture of alcohol and the fact that you’ve once again got someone in your ear about Lando and you, but you can sense those feelings starting to claw their way back up and you aren’t sure if you can push them back down tonight. 

“Ten minutes until midnight!” The DJ’s voice travels through the apartment and you’re sure Max will be getting some kind of fee taped to his door in the morning. 

Max says something about talking to you later before exiting the kitchen and you realize with ten minutes till midnight that you’ve got to get your grapes and find a table to fit under. For the moment you push Lando to the back of your mind and focus on your very important task at hand. 

Luckily for you Max had a decently sized dining table in his apartment so with your grapes in hand you crawled under the table, which thankfully was shielded by a tablecloth, and settled in for your feast. 

Lando on the other hand had been searching for you everywhere since the ten minute announcement. He’d literally just seen you in the kitchen with Max and then when he looked back again you were both gone. He’d gone in the bathrooms, the bedrooms, the closets, every single place he could think you would be and it’s like you had vanished. Max had a large apartment, especially to be living in London, but it wasn’t that big to allow for you to not be found. His texts to you had gone unanswered and he began to think maybe you had left, but he knew you would have told him if you were leaving, so that theory went out the window. 

When the five minute announcement hit his ears he began asking people if they had seen you and with each no or i think she was in the kitchen a while ago he received his hopes of finding you before midnight started to diminish. 

He’d finally worked up the courage to tell you how he’d felt tonight. After years of holding himself back and not wanting to ruin what you two already had, he’d decided that life was too short and that he would come to regret not allowing himself to truly love you like he should. He knew you were the one and there wasn’t a bone in his body that didn’t think you didn’t feel the same. So, he was finally going to bite the bullet tonight and he wanted you to be the person he was kissing as the clock struck twelve. But if he couldn’t find you, then how in the world was he supposed to do that? 

Lando was honestly starting to get worried over not being able to find you, screw the whole love confession at this point. What if something had happened to you? He’d been all over Max’s place countless times and he still couldn’t find you. With the official countdown echoing through the apartment he decided to just say fuck it and head to your place and see if you had gone home.

As he was heading to get his coat a familiar sparkly heel sticking out from under the dining table caught his attention. It was the same type of heels he’d seen you put on earlier and he did somewhat of a double take. He wondered if it was the couple drinks he’d had messing with him because why would you be sitting under Max’s dining table? 

He crouches down and slowly lifts the table cloth up, unsure of what he’s going to find underneath it. Everyone is only getting louder and with five seconds until midnight what he finds staring back at him under the table is not at all how he expected his night to end up. There you are with your now empty bag of grapes on the floor and your cheeks stuffed full of said grapes. You resemble something of a chipmunk and Lando can’t help but laugh at you. 

“What the hell are you doing down here?” 

The excessively loud shouting of happy new year from everyone while noise makers and confetti fill the air distract both Lando and you for a moment. He didn’t think this is the position he’d be in right now, he figured he’d be in that crowd with his lips on yours like so many others right now. While you on the other hand didn’t think you’d be caught in such an embarrassing situation, not to mention you hadn’t even gotten all your grapes down, so this stupid thing was probably all for nothing. 

His attention is back on you in no time and he really wants to know what you were doing. Were you that addicted to grapes that you had to hide under the table while you got your fix? If so, he may need to have a talk with you. 

“Seriously, why are you hiding under the table stuffing grapes into your mouth?” He prods again. 

Your mouth is still so full of the grapes that you can’t really talk and all you can manage to get out is leave while simultaneously trying to jab his leg with your heel. You were embarrassed and at this point scared you might choke on the grapes, and you’d rather go out in peace then have Lando cause a scene because you were choking. 

“Ouch!” Lando yelps as your heel finally makes contact with him. You know he’s being dramatic because you barely even kicked him, but you would try anything for him to drop that table cloth and let you be. “Come on, come out from under there.” Lando grabs your arm and practically forces you to come out from under the table.

Luckily, everyone else was too preoccupied with still ringing in the New Year to see you crawl out and as you dust yourself off you're still chomping on the last couple grapes left. The party only seems to be getting crazier and you don’t really feel like staying here until the party inevitably ends at an ungodly hour in the morning, especially now that your plan for love has undoubtedly failed. 

You finally swallow the last couple grapes and take a deep breath, the fear of choking and embarrassment now behind you. “Do you care if I leave? Not really feeling the party that much anymore.” 

Lando doesn’t even question your request. “I’ll walk you home, let me grab our coats and tell Max we are leaving.” 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The cold England air hits you as you exit Max’s apartment building and you’re thankful that your place isn’t very far from his. It’s silent between Lando and you for some time, the sound of your heels on the pavement, fireworks in the distance, and other people celebrating are the only things you two hear. 

“Can I ask you something?” Lando finally breaks the silence. 

“Shoot.” 

He takes a deep breath fully knowing once he opens this locked away side of him that there’s no going back. “Have you ever thought about us?” 

You feel your heart skip a beat at his question, yet you try to remain cool and collected. “What do you mean?” 

He stops in his tracks causing you to mimic his actions. “Like,” he motions between the two of you, “us.”

There’s not a doubt in your mind about what he’s referring to and yes you do think about the two of you. Yet your brain feels scrambled once you're actually confronted with the possibility of Lando feeling the same as you. You’d tried so hard to ignore the feelings, hell you’d tried something you saw on the internet to hopefully bring a different man into your life to finally squash those feelings. You’d just never thought you’d be in this position though and it’s throwing you into a whirlwind. 

Lando isn’t sure what your silence means and he figures he’s already started, he might as well just fully admit it at this point. 

“Fuck it. I told myself I was going to do this tonight and I’m not gonna chicken out again.” His cheeks are rosy from the cold and you can tell by the way his pretty eyes dart all around your face that he’s trying to figure out how to say what he wants to say. “I’ve got feelings for you.” He finally blurts out.

“No scratch that I’m in love with you Y/N. Think I have been for some time now. I’ve tried telling you how I felt for what seems like ages, but I’ve always been too scared to. I’ve been afraid that you wouldn’t feel the same and to me I’d rather bottle up my feelings and keep you in my life then tell you how I feel and lose you. But clearly I’ve grown tired of that and realized that the reward would be higher than the risk. You’re my person Y/N. I couldn’t imagine life without you and to have you be mine would make life that much better. So here I am baring my heart to you on some street in London on New Year’s Eve. I actually had a whole plan on how I was-” 

His rambling while you loved most of the time was cut off by your desire to shut him up with your lips on his and you did just that. You grabbed him by his coat and pulled him into you, your lips crashing together. It takes him a moment to realize what's happening, but when his brain finally starts to work and he kisses you back it’s everything you could have imagined and more.

Kissing Lando is like heaven on Earth and the way his soft lips feel against yours has you wishing you would have just stopped being so stubborn and listened to your friends ages ago. His large warm hands come out of his pockets and he cups your face as he deepens the kiss, which has you feeling lightheaded and warm all over. 

There’s fireworks being let off not too far away that light up the sky above you, but you’re too engrossed in each other to pay them much mind. It’s truly like a scene straight out of a movie and you know you’ll remember this moment forever. 

You two finally pull away to breathe and it’s like you can see the world in a whole new way. The depressing grey landscape of London in the winter time suddenly looks like it was painted in technicolor and neither of you can wipe the cheek hurting grin off your faces. “So I guess you feel the same?” He asks. 

“Yes Lando Norris, I’m in love with you too. Have been for a while and like you I didn’t want to ruin what we already have. To me there was no possible way that you felt the same and I hate rejection and the idea of losing you. So, I went on a million dates trying to find someone that would replace how I felt about you, but I guess you can’t replace someone who your heart has already laid claim to.” 

You feel Lando intertwine your fingers with his and it’s like everything just feels right in the world. 

“I’m glad we stopped being so stubborn and that I don’t have to see you out with all those random guys anymore.” 

“Believe me, none of them even came close to comparing to you. It was like going on a date with a sack of potatoes most of the time.” 

His infectious laugh fills your ears and you feel your heart swell. You can’t believe this was what you were depriving yourself of for so long. 

The rest of the walk back to your apartment is spent walking hand in hand. All while little giggles escape each of you ever so often and Lando occasionally kisses you on the head or lifts your intertwined hands up to plant a kiss there. 

“I have to ask again. It’s really been bugging me. What were you doing under that table?” Lando asks as you near your apartment building. A loud groan emits from you and there isn’t anything less that you would want to talk about than that. “Come on, just tell me!” 

“Fine! I saw this thing on the internet that if you eat twelve green grapes under a table at midnight that it’s supposed to bring you luck in the love department in the New Year. Like you’d find your soulmate or something. I was so desperate to try and get over these feelings I have for you so what we had wouldn’t be ruined that I was willing to try anything.” 

He’s silent for a moment and then he looks at you with the biggest smile on his face. “Well I’d say it worked didn’t it? You’ve found love and not to be overzealous, but I’d say your soulmate too.” 

You’re stunned for a moment when you realize that yes, the grapes did work, just not in the way you planned. The universe had put Lando in your life years ago and for some weird reason had you wait this long to finally truly be in one another's lives, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Hell, you’d eat a whole package of grapes if that meant Lando and you got to be together in every lifetime. 

“They did, didn't they? I guess almost choking to death was worth it in the end.” 

“I mean I know I’m every woman’s dream, but you didn’t almost have to kill yourself to get my attention baby.” 

You playfully slap his arm as he laughs at you. That big head of his was sometimes fully ego and you realized you were going to have to put up with it all the time now. “Oh shut up.” 

“Yeah, but you love me.” He states before pressing a kiss to your lips, which has your mind feeling like TV static once again. 

When you pull away and look him in the eyes there’s nothing but pure love staring back at you and you know that this is who is meant to be in your life, till the end. “More than you’ll ever know.” 

The next morning you receive a group text from Max with Lando and you in it.  

max: why have i found an empty bag with what looks to be a grape stem in it under my dining table??? i fully know it was one of you.

you: i don’t know what you're talking about. 

lando: me either. no grapes were consumed by us last night. must have been someone else. 

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

what are leona's flaws if he has any?

Of course he has flaws, everyone—fictional and real—does. Leona’s are quite numerous and very blatantly out there in some cases, so this ask (which sort of implies he doesn’t have flaws at all) surprised me 😅 His are pretty hard to miss, no…? Of course, some of these flaws do improve over the course of the main story, but they are still largely present.

I’m not sure what prompted this question, but I hope it’s not because I somehow gave off the impression that I’m not cognizant of his flaws. I may occasionally sing the guy praises about being a good leader/big brother figure but I’d like to think that I also humble him just as much by bringing up his less savory personality traits (namely his laziness, underhandedness, and pride) and his shortcomings as a leader. I try to look at characters from all angles, regardless of how I personally feel about them overall.

That being said, there’s a slew of flaws to highlight, some of which I already mentioned earlier. Leona is:

Lazy, or, more accurately, unmotivated. If he’s not interested in it or feels he isn’t gaining something himself from acting, 9 times out of 10 Leona won’t lift a finger and/or will choose to nap instead. He frequently doesn’t even attend classes because he thinks there’s nothing they could teach him that the royal tutors haven’t. In many other cases, he ends up helping others because he’ll get something from it. For example, he may teach the first years how to properly mine magestones in his Camping Gear vignette, but only so they quiet down and he can have a quiet spot to nap.

Underhanded. He’s more focused on his desired results rather than the morality or ethics of what methods he uses to achieve those results. Lying, bending the rules, roughing up people who get in his way… Nothing’s off the table. All of book 2 basically illustrates this.

Seeking approval, often to his own detriment. This is usually framed as him wanting the crown, but it’s actually a consequence of Leona wanting to be acknowledged by others since he was without it for most of his life. These feelings lead to many self-destructive behaviors and sentiments, including the events of book 2.

Selfish and spoiled. Let’s be honest, he just is 😭 He’s often ordering others around or expecting to be waited on and not thinking about how it could inconvenience them, yet he also acts really annoyed whenever others ask him to help out with something. Leona also rarely stops to listen to others’ sides of stories, he considers his own perspective to be the most important.

Competitive. His pride is easily wounded, especially if someone claims to be stronger than him in a particular area (even if it’s an area he doesn’t necessarily care about). For example, he argued with Vil about which of them would be the ideal suitor for the Ghost Bride and has a known grudge against Malleus, a fellow prince and skilled player in his own sport of choice.

Arrogant and prideful. This goes hand-in-hand with the other traits; Leona thinks highly of himself and his skills… perhaps too much so. Because of this, he has issues yielding his command to others or even considering opinions which differ from his own. This is why he doesn’t have a vice dorm leader; he’d rather rule unquestioningly. It’s his way or the highway!

Domineering. He doesn’t ask you to do things, he tells you to do things and you obey. This happens a lot between him and Ruggie, but also with other characters and even NPCs like the pixies in Fairy Gala (when he demands water to distract them from finding Yuu and co.).

Petty. This holds true for most of the NRC boys, but I think it’s particularly the case for Leona, who tries to beat up a magicless human for accidentally steps on his tail and then bullies that same human + some extras in a sportsball game 💀 He’s also infamous for his several harsh quips against Malleus and other characters that are just there minding their own business or existing.

Needlessly aggressive (in some cases). There’s no question that Leona would prefer to use his brains before his brawn. However, there are instances in which he resorts to magic or physical strength instead of scheming or talking out a solution. For example, the aforementioned attempt to attack Yuu (a defenseless, magicless human) for an accident. Dialogue in Malleus’s dorm uniform vignettes also implies Leona intended to put his hands on Malleus after a perceived slight. In his own dorm uniform vignettes, Leona is about to unleash his UM on second year students who are stepping out of line (Jack has to intervene and beg him to stop).

Defeatist. This stands in contrast to his usual arrogance, but I’m a strong believer in the “Leona uses his arrogance to mask for his own insecurities about being second best/place his entire life” thing. If he thinks there’s no point in trying, that he won’t be acknowledged no matter how hard he tries, he simply won’t. Instead, he’ll wallow in his sorrows and lament about things out of his control (such as birth order or life not being fair)—even though choosing to act or not is in his control. He also has a tendency to deny others’ love and respect for him, almost as if he believes it’s untrue or… he doesn’t believe himself to be worthy of those feelings.

Afraid of failure. For as cocksure as Leona presents himself to the world, he has a crippling fear of failing. That’s why he’s so quick to throw in the towel in book 2; if he deflects the blame to others or raises the white flag early, he can reason with himself that he didn’t really “lose��. There’s nothing more humiliating to try so hard only to not succeed in the end… just like he has his entire life. In the light novel, Leona also expresses that he’s afraid of having hope, because that makes it so much more soul crushing when that hope amounts to nothing. I believe it’s these feelings that also shaped his UM. Why is the identity defining magic he wields destructive? Maybe because Leona himself believes that this is his fate: the prince with naught, because everything he touches turns to sand.

[barblaz-arts]

I know you've been making a lot of art of it lately, but out of curiosity, what's your opinion on Hazbin Hotel in general? I'm referring to both the show and the fandom here. Just curious.

God. What a loaded question. Are you ready? Bcuz I'm fresh from Vaggie discourse on twitter and I have a lot to say.

I think that Hazbin Hotel seems worse than it is for people who know the fandom but haven't actually watched the show. Honestly, I think it's a fine show. It isnt super incredible and I'm not gonna sing praises about how deep and thought provoking it is or whether it's an artistic masterpiece. It never tried to be that and was never advertised as such(to my knowledge) anyway. I just had a lot of fun. Like, yeh sure the cussing in the dialogue can be a bit much, especially in ep 1, but there are different writers in other episodes, so it gets better. It can be super crude yeh, but I grew up watching things like the Scary Movie franchise and other dumb american movies (yes, i was too young for them. yes, i still watched them), so it's pretty tolerable for me. It also helps that Charlie is the main character. That's one of the main reasons why I watch HH but dont watch HB. It's probably a fun show, but without a sweetheart like Charlie to balance things out, I'd just get tired of the sex jokes and mean jokes.

Compared to my last hyperfixation, I think I have more things to love about Hazbin Hotel, believe it or not. With Netflix's Wednesday, I had already been an Addams Family fan for a while and hung on because I loved the family and eventually Enid and wenclair. The show itself was honestly meh... so far! I'll give season 2 another shot.

But with Hazbin Hotel, it catered to a lot of things I've always loved. Found family with a bunch of misfits? We didnt get to see it much bcuz of the fuckass 8-ep per season format we have nowadays, but its fine its there! The juxtaposition of a kind hearted woman in a harsh world? Love love Charlie for that, I watched the show in the first place because of her. A canon lesbian lover with a "fuck the world cuz my world is you" type of love for the protag? Fuck yes. How very Pearl-from-Steven-Universe of Vaggie. And the music? The music is soooo good. I didn't know the songwriter prior to watching, so I was nervous about the songs, but I knew most of the theater actors they cast(still cant believe Jeremy fucking Jordan is Lucifer) so I figured even if the songs are mid, at least the performances would be topnotch. And they were! But the songs were a pleasant surprise. Sam Haft did real damn well. I still listen to the soundtrack to this day.

The fandom, however, is probably the worst one I've been in. And I've been in a lot in my big age... Just... lacking media literacy, and based on the replies I get when I say something on twitter, it seems a lot of them lack reading comprehension and just plain emotional intelligence too.

There's a lot of criticisms about this show that I honestly think is fair. Pacing, character design, overuse of the F word, whatever. But in my opinion, claiming that Hazbin is a male-centered show is an unfair misconception that is mostly the fault of the fandom.

Bcuz, sure, the male characters are uber popular. Alastor, Vox, Lucifer, Angel Dust and the many web of ships they're involved in went trending every few business days. But come on now. How often does a fandom even have their main protag as the most talked about character? This has been going on for ages. Just because the boys have the most merch and fics and fanarts and thirsty fans doesn't mean that they had the spotlight for most of the show itself. It only meant that they were the ones the viewers paid attention to, in a fandom filled with people drooling over the next tumblr sexyman and toxic yaoi ship of the month.

But if you actually look back at what the show gave us so far, the boys didnt outshine the women. I actually think the women got to do more and be more as characters than the men did. Let's take a look at the male characters.

Alastor was not in all the episodes. In fact, he was MIA in two out of the eight episodes. In all the episodes he was in, he was a mere side character. His purpose in season one was to stir the pot and be the intriguing mystery that occasionally quips. But he was not the one whose deeper thoughts were explored and whose character and goals was challenged THROUGHOUT the show, merely alluded to at the VERY END of the season, which is hardly him taking the spotlight away from Charlie. If you merely looked at the fan content of him, you'd think he were a father figure to Charlie(or a love interest. whatever) and that he has developed a soft spot for the Hazbins deep down in that cannibal heart of his. But if you pay attention to the show, he never had even a meaningful one on one conversation with the Hazbins. The only time that happened is when (a)he threatened Husk's life (b)when he constantly mocked Charlie while she was down in the dumps and used this as an opportunity to manipulate her and (b)when he told Niffty watching the crew sure can "make one sentimental", even tho he had taken no prior opportunity to bond with them! There's no foundation for all the fandom's claims that he could be redeemed bcuz of a budding fondness for the group, but that's all you see of his fan content(aside from the horniness). I dont have any problem with his lack of an actual relationship with the Hazbins bcuz I believe redemption for him is not what the show is going for, but it's frustrating to see people interpreting it that way BUT not seeing how horridly developed it would be if that is the case, meanwhile they turn around and say that Vaggie and Chaggie as a ship "had terrible development".

Then we have the male Vees. Vox was only ever in episode two, and was essentially a youtube reactor in episode 8. He was in ep 4 but had no speaking lines. We only know of his obsession with Alastor and the toxic relationship he has with Val. Val, meanwhile, is merely shown as the sex obsessed fiend behind Hell's sex industry and Angel's abuse. They did what they needed to do with minimal screentime. It was fine, but that's IT. Despite what little CANON gave so far, you have hundreds of people writing essays and fics and fanarts about them being complicated characters. But to reiterate, this does not mean that they are bad characters or that they don't deserve the fame. But to say that these men are better written within canon than the women is such a bold statement when most of the depth they knew of these characters were lore drops given before the show and their own speculations as they dug into the shallow soil of what the show has so far.

I'm not gonna speak about Angel and Lucifer. Because I think they were characters who were legitimately well-explored so far.

Now onto the women. So many of them were given the opportunity to have their characters challenged or given the agency to push characters and the plot forward or give you intrigue about implications of what's to come for the characters and the plot. I've talked a lot about Charlie and Vaggie. So let me talk about the other, terribly underrated women of Hazbin.

Velvette and Carmilla were the ones who advanced the subplot in the war against Heaven. Because of Carmilla's love for her family despite being a demon, an angel was killed. It gave Heaven the excuse to escalate things, but it also gave Charlie hope later on in the season that they're not powerless. Carmilla was also the first demon shown to make selfless actions that is contrary to what is expected of demons, making it proof that Charlie's belief that demons deserve a second chance isn't unwarranted. She's an interesting character, as an overlord who hangs on to power but clearly has morals. But how often do you see people writing essays about her? Eating up the fact that she's a powerful overlord but would sacrifice anything for her daughters? If Carmilla were a man, hundreds of girlies would be drooling over the crime boss who has a soft spot for his daughters.

Meanwhile, Velvette got to demonstrate why exactly she's an Overlord despite being the youngest demon in there. She's calculating and observant. She gives off a haughty vibe and constantly boasts about how she's young and fresh, but she isn't naive. During that meeting, she paid attention to Carmilla and Zestial's relationship. In order to find out who killed the angel, she riled everyone up, and when she got the feeling it was Carmilla, she mocked Zestial so that Carmilla could slip up. By playing these Overlords who are older and more experienced than her, Velvette showed what exactly her asset was to the Vees and why she's a threat, something that Vox and Val have yet to be given the opportunity to do when they were busy eye-fucking Alastor and literally fucking Angel. But in fan content about the Vees, Velvette is almost treated as an after thought to the boys...

Then we have the Seraphs. Not only were their designs gorgeous, their dynamic and presence as characters had impact to the plot and main characters.

Emily is a much needed character to show that this story isn't meant to tell you that Heaven = bad; Hell = good. There is good and bad in both, and it is so important for the protags to know that they have an ally in Emily who represents the true virtues that heaven is supposed to uphold. And I love the confrontation she had with Sera when her own view of what's right and good was challenged. We got to see the strength of her character and started the seeds of what could be heaven's acceptance of Charlie's goals.

Sera is such an interesting character to me. She was also important to show that not all angels were sadistic like Adam and Lute, but not in the same way Emily was. I have no idea so far which direction this show would go with her. But I'm intrigued by the fact that she seems to be driven by fear, unlike Adam and Lute's cruelty. She knew Lucifer and was there when he was cast out for his disobedience. Whether everything she's doing is to prevent that from happening again remains to be seen, and I'm looking forward to this kind of subplot for her.

And then Rosie! I really really look forward to seeing more from her. Spoilers aside, something I barely see people talk about is how interesting it is that Rosie is every bit the leader that Charlie hopes to be. Rosie is able to be a respected overlord in her own faction without needing to sacrifice her love for showmanship and music and her positive disposition. When we were officially introduced to her, they show how she seems to care about actually taking care of her people, not JUST ordering them around, by talking to them personally and giving advice. That's exactly what Charlie wanted to do for her people, isn't it? The hotel to Charlie was what the emporium was to Rosie. They have a lot of similarities that could set up for Rosie to be the one to teach Charlie in becoming a leader. Now whether that's a good thing or a bad thing remains to be seen, but it is rather compelling.

So yeah! With all that said, I really dont think this show ignores its women at all. Just because a bigger part of the fandom gravitated towards the men doesn't necessarily mean its a misogynistic show so far. But if certain people are claiming that the women are badly written, then I hope they also own up to the fact that their blorbos are just as shallowly presented within the show, maybe even more so. Which wouldn't even be a bad thing! Since when did a show or character have to be amazingly written for a person to like them? That's just no fun at all. All I'm saying is... Fuck this fandom's double standards, hiding behind claims that it's the writing's fault when the problem is they couldn't be bothered to think about the women.

[lawofangie]

the law is always working

i get so many questions about why the law isn't working for people, and i've come to the conclusion that there is something you all aren't understanding.

the law of assumption is a law. a law that states that whatever you assume to be true will be true. the law of assumption, like i've said many times before, requires you to assume.

to many of you, an assumption is hoping something happens or constantly checking to see if something is true. what you fail to understand is that by definition, an assumption is something you believe to be true without proof.

a law that states "whatever you assume to be true will be true" clealy requires you to assume first, otherwise, you're not even using it. you have to wholeheartedly believe that whatever you decided to believe is the truth.

this is not a foreign concept, it's something we do all the time. we believe in things and decide things are a certain way without seeing them all the time. you just don't realize it.

when you say "the law isn't working for me", what you're actually saying is "i haven't been assuming good for myself" or "i'm waiting for something to happen but nothing is" because again, all the law simply does is require you to assume. you can assume something good, bad or indifferent. the law doesn't care. WE care, which is why we're telling you, regardless of what your eyes are currently being shown, to assume in your favor.

and you have to believe it first before you get the proof. that's the way the law works. that's literally the only rule, the only requirement, the only way to even say you've been using the law and you're allowed to bend it however you want. just believe something, i promise you it's not as hard as you make it seem. you just like being told what to do instead of deciding things for yourself.

your assumption has to be true, has to materialize, no matter what. it's a law. it has to happen. there are no what-if's, no exceptions, no delays, because they're all decisions you're making anyway. if you decide "this won't happen", it is no different from deciding "this already did happen", the only difference is your personal choice on what you choose to assume. the law isn't going to congratulate you for making a good or bad choice.. it never has (again, the law is simply making assumptions, just used in a different way.), nobody is going to reward you for it, you're simply just making a good decision for yourself.

there is absolutely nothing stopping you from turning your life into a hell or a heaven. our words are just mere suggestions. it's always your decision in the end.

and i know circumstances can be scary, but nobody can coddle you or help you but you. you are valid, but no amount of dwelling on the present/ current circumstances can help you. dwelling on these things keeps them alive in your mind, thus keeping them alive in your external reality.

you have to stop putting your external reality above you and stop accepting it as absolute, again, accepting it as absolute is your decision. it is not the truth, you only feel it is the truth. there is nothing physically stopping you from doing the opposite.

so, if you want the change, you have to be the change.

[ihatethecrowdsyouknowthat]

pillow talk - spencer reid x fem!reader

a night well spent fizzles out into soft words exchanged in pink sheets.

genre: fluff wc: 1019 warnings: mentioned sex, their first time together, casual nudity, inexperienced reader, insecurities, reassurance

It was soft, comforting even. Of course intense because how else could your first time together be? It was him, after all. As you lay, heavy pants finally returning to normal, steady breaths, a hand comes up to smooth down your hair and a kiss is gently pressed to your head.

"How do you feel?" Spencer asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

It proves to be a difficult question. A response seems counterintuitive, like it would demean the moment into something that has to be assessed. An answer has to come, nonetheless.

"I don't know." And it's the truth.

He hums thoughtfully and nods, running a hand down your shoulder. "Good or bad?"

"Good... like my brain's empty. If that makes sense," you answer.

Your head, on Spencer's bare chest, does, in fact, feel foggy. Before today, you were both too scared of the intimacy. Something changed the moment you felt him move his grip from your hip to your waist, like he was worried that he might make you uncomfortable. You didn't want that. It happened only after convincing him that you wanted to go further than the usual groping and hand stuff. Now you're unsure how you feel. Having someone you've been seeing for a while suddenly inside you is bizarre and always will be. You also can't seem to shake that voice that sounds a lot like your friends, telling you that he'll leave after he gets what he wants. Your mind is simply a flurry of everything that anyone has ever told you about intimacy. With Spencer, it was different, though.

Your hand finds his and you mindlessly toy with his fingers as you murmur, "you've done this more than me, correct?"

"Correct."

"How do people usually feel?" you ask softly.

"Everybody's different. You don't need to feel good." He takes a breath and explains in a matter-of-fact tone, his hand lifting above your shoulder to gesture while he talks, "the rush of serotonin and dopamine into our system can leave some people feeling sad or tired once those neurotransmitters decrease."

You nod, finding yourself understanding. It has been a while since you've engaged in any form of intimacy.

"That makes sense."

He nods as his fingers drop to continue the irregular patterns on your arm. His chin rests on your head. "So? How do you feel?"

Again, there's no correct answer to his question. It's a complicated experience with complicated feelings attached. But one thing is for sure, "I'm happy."

"I'm glad. I am, too," he hums.

A smile floats over your lips before a thought occurs and you have an inkling as to how he'll choose to reply to it. Your head lifts and you turn so you're now partly on your side, giving you a perfect view of his face in the soft glow of the afternoon. With the curtains closed, his skin was basked in pale yellow light, the pink of your sheets contrasting the pink of his cheeks.

"Did I do good?" you grin.

He finds you gorgeous, your sickeningly sweet smile making him gaze down at you in pure awe. It's the complete and utter truth when he responds with, "very."

You can't help but tease, "best you've ever had?"

"Yes. I don't think you could've fumbled that badge of honour if you tried," he smiles, his hand gently cupping your cheek, a rough thumb wiping away invisible tears.

Something about the sentiment gets to you. After all, you're nothing but a hopeful romantic. But you're also just a girl.

"So, even if I was bad, you'd still lie and say I wasn't?" you raise your eyebrows and bat your eyelashes.

His eyes narrow but the smile on his face shows you that he's not really upset. "No... I meant that I think I like you too much to not enjoy everything you do."

"Oh," you flush. Why does he have to be so perfect?

The hand on your cheek moves up to brush some of your hair back. "Yeah, oh."

Spencer's different than the guys you've interacted with. He's everything that little girls everywhere dream of. He's Prince Charming. That's why when your lips meet his and the sheet falls back, his eyes never once glance down. Perhaps he's an agent and an individual with three PhDs but he's a gentleman above all else. He never once wants to make you feel like he's not here for you.

When your lips break apart with happy smiles on both of your faces, you take in just how silly he looks. His hair is messy from your fingers, his cheeks are flushed and—your favourite of all—he's covered up to his stomach in pink sheets. The giggle that leaves you is unnecessary and unasked for.

He can't help the smile that comes from hearing your laugh. "What?" he mutters, brows furrowed.

"You just look... so very silly in my bed," you explain, a lovesick grin on your face.

"Oh. Well, I can't help what you choose as interior design."

You sigh dramatically, shaking your head like a disappointed teacher, "I suppose you can't."

The smile on his lips only grows as you act your ass off to seem sad by his comment.

"Perhaps I should also purchase pink sheets?" he suggests jokingly, tucking yet another stray strand behind your ear.

"I really think you should. It would complement your room and it would make you think of me so that's a bonus," you nod. You're unable to stay serious, though, the corners of your mouth lifting despite your efforts.

Spencer nods back, his bottom lip pushing up as he hums decisively. "I'm sold, let's go to the store," he says with an impressively straight face.

You laugh hard, beaming up at him with nothing but pure joy. You find his commitment to the bit amusing and, honestly, endearing. He points his thumb towards the bedroom door with his eyebrows raised in a silent question. Playfully, your eyes roll and rest your face in the crook of his neck.

"I'll get pink sheets if you want me to," Spencer softly mutters.

[buck-star]

Realisation | SSOD

Being a hybrid was always something you enjoyed, something you were proud of. At least until they used it to get money with you.

Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers x Kitten (CatHybrid!Fem!Reader)

Wordcount: 4.178 Words

Warnings: DARK content, kidnapping, human/hybrid trafficking, nudity, violence

Authors Note: Shout out to @holylulusworld, @thezombieprostitute and @mercurial-chuckles for the support and help, for letting me vent and collect ideas. Plus @krirebr for throwing me back into dark writing with your amazing Trapped AU. So, enjoy the first part of Steve and his CatHybrid.

Events: Fandom-Free Bingo: Book edition [N4 | and then there were (none) | @fandom-free-bingo]

Masterlist | Sweet side of darkness (SSOD) Series Masterlist

Darkness and silence fill the small rooms. The floor is just as cold as the icy breeze in winters, and the small towel in the corner of the room wouldn’t even warm a bug. The screams outside are muffled — almost quiet — just like the voice, so no one can make out what they’re talking about in the hallways.

When you wake up on the cold, dirty ground, you feel the coldness seeping through your clothes, causing your already quivering body to shake even more. You curl yourself further together, wrapping your thick tail around your small frame to keep you warm.

Your head is aching, your ears thrumming when you shift. Your limbs feel too heavy to move them probably, and your mind is spinning. Where were you, and how did you get there?

The last thing you remember is how you went to work. Leaving your apartment and walking to the little bakery that’s at the corner before your office. You get your daily coffee there, but today it was different; you weren’t there. Why weren’t you there, and why are you where you are now?

You’re supposed to be at the office and working and not lying in a corner somewhere in a dark room with a scattered blanket underneath you. Your eyes slowly get used to the darkness, and you can see some outlines, but there wasn’t much to look at at all.

In the corner opposite you, which was maybe five feet away from you, was a hole in the ground. A sniff with and you can make out that it's used as a toilet. There’s no sink or anything to clean. There’s not even anything else in the room. When your eyes wander further, you stop at the door, where you notice the little light underneath the door.

For a moment you keep staring at it, watching the movements outside the room. You wonder who’s walking there, whose voices those are. They aren’t familiar to you and way too quiet to allow you to hear them, not even with your better senses.

You’re not sure how much time passes while you’re lying on the ground, your eyes focused on the only but small source of light. Not even your fluffy tail wrapped around your shivering form does much to warm you anymore.

Only when the shadow of a pair of feet stops in front of the door and a key gets pushed into the lock of the heavy door do you sit up slightly and push yourself further back into the corner you’re in. Your eyes focus on the heavy metal when it swings open, light bursting into the room, blinding you for a brief moment before your eyes can get used to the light of the hallway.

A tall man, six feet, standing in the doorframe. He’s muscular, his short brown hair hanging in his face. His ocean blue eyes roam over your shivering frame, and a devilish smirk forms on his plump lips.

“Such an angsty little kitty that we got, huh?” He mocks, and you push yourself further into the corner. He turns on the light in the room before he takes a step inside. “Dirty girl, did you piss yourself?”

The way he mocks and tries to humiliate you makes your blood boil, and you bare your teeth slightly. It doesn’t do much to scare him off or even remove that disgusting smirk on his face. It only makes him chuckle darkly when he takes another step closer to you.

You sit up straighter, pushing your feet perfectly to just jump up and run. The door leading to the hallway is still open, and so is your opportunity to escape. You don’t know what comes after that door, what’s in the hallway, or how to get out of the building, but that’s something you can think about once you’re out of the room.

The man takes another step closer, and he only needs to do one more, and then you will jump on him. You will use all your power and throw him down on the ground. His eyes glisten when you place both of your hands on the ground in front of you and let your tail slide back to keep your balance.

The moment you push yourself off the ground and jump, he takes a step backwards. The grin widens on his lips as you’re pulled back by some chain around your ankle. Within a second you land with your cheek crashing down on the hard floor. You whimper as you feel the pain of the crash.

How didn’t you notice the chain around your ankle? Maybe because it was loose enough and your pants kept the cold metal from your warm skin.

“Feisty little girl. Wouldn’t we get that much money for you, I would keep you for myself,” he laughs darkly, but there was not a hint of amusement. His voice drips with dominance and darkness that you feel a shiver running down your spine. “Now get the fuck up and don’t dare to make another stunt like you just did. Though it could be fun, for me at least.”

You turn your head, looking at his shoes when he kneels down in front of you. He brings one of his calloused hands to your chin and turns your head so you’re forced to look into his eyes. His thick fingers add some more pressure around your jaw, showing you the strength he has but also the dominance.

“We need to get you cleaned; no one wants a dirty girl,” he says, lifting your head further until it hurts in your neck, and you whimper once more. After a moment he lets go of your chin, causing your head to fall forward once again, and your cheek almost connects with the ground once more.

You lay there, your body aching, and you prefer collecting some strength for later. The man gets up, walks around you, and opens the chain around your ankle. You’re not even moving your leg when it’s finally free, knowing he can reach out and throw you into the ground with almost no effort.

“Such a shame that I can’t keep you. Would have a lot of fun training you and breaking you until you’re doing as I say,” he mumbles, knowing girls — hybrids like you. He isn’t stupid; he knows that you think about ways to escape there, and it makes him even more excited.

He leans down, wrapping one of his hands around your arm and pulling you with him. You don’t have a chance to get up and walk; he just drags you with him, not caring that your legs slide painfully over the dirty ground.

You don’t dare to make a sound, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. So you just take a deep breath and clench your jaw while you look around the hallway. There are so many other hallways, so many rooms; you’re not even sure after two corners where you were before.

The man keeps dragging you along the hallway until he stops in front of another door. It’s the same metal door you know from the room you were in. But when he pushes the door open, you’re greeted by a bigger, brighter room. It has a toilet, a sink, a shower, and a tub, just like a normal bathroom.

There are even shelves with shampoos, creams, and a lot of other articles for skin care. When your eyes wander through the room, you notice another tall man standing next to the tub where a girl is sitting. She has small, golden ears and a tail that reminds you of a golden retriever.

The man pushes you against the wall, letting you sit down as he closes the door behind him. Your eyes wander further over the girl until your eyes meet. That moment everything clicks into its place and you know where you are or, more, why you were there.

It isn’t that they just sell people. This isn’t human trafficking, at least not for them. They capture hybrids and sell them underground to get a lot of money, and the new ‘owners’ have their pets; that’s it. You’re a pet for them, almost an object and nothing more. Human rights don’t count for hybrids, not in the world where you just landed when they captured you.

“Kemp,” the man with the other girl chuckles as he looks at the man who's standing next to you. His gaze drops to you, and he smirks as he looks back up at the man whose name is obviously Kemp or whatever.

“Hansen,” he greets the other man, his gaze moving to the puppy hybrid in the tub. To your surprise, she doesn’t even look ashamed to sit naked in that tub or that she’s obviously captured.

Only when your eyes move further over her body do you notice the red, even bloody stripes all over her. It looks like she got beaten up pretty badly, and the sadistic smirk of that Hansen who’s looking you up and down lets you know who hurt her like that.

Kemp notices you tensing up when you realize what’s going on and when you notice the bruised body of the other hybrid. He leans down, nodding toward Hansen as he speaks in a low and dark tone. “Be happy you haven’t gotten him to clean you. With your little stunt earlier, you would look like her now, all bruised.”

Your eyes widen as you push yourself further into the wall behind you. That Hansen guy has the most sadistic smile you have ever seen, his blue eyes glistening with lust while he listened to Kemp talking to you.

“Did that little thing make a scene?” He asks, taking a towel to wrap the hybrid in the tub into it. She stands up, and you can see even more bruises and cuts all over her skin, not enough to leave any scars but enough to make her obey. “Do you want to switch? I will take care of her and clean her.”

Kemp shakes his head, chuckling low in his throat. His eyes remind you for a moment, noticing how your body is tense and slightly shivering. It makes him smirk even more as he sighs in satisfaction. “Don’t ya think you’re the best brat tamer here just because you tamed your little housewife?”

“Jealous, Kemp?” The other snorts, wrapping the towel tighter around the hybrid before he helps her out of the tub and places her in front of him. He turns his gaze to her, the grin evident. “Dry yourself.”

You look at them, studying the girl and the way she immediately obeys when words leave his mouth. You’re not sure if it’s the fear or just her being obedient, but you won’t let them bathe you and look at you like a piece of meat.

“Take off your clothes,” Kemp growls behind you, his hand finding its way into your neck. He pulls you up, making you stand in front of him. You don’t even attempt to move; you’re just standing there, waiting for his next action. He grits his teeth, adding more pressure around your neck. “Take. Off. Your. Clothes.”

You keep ignoring him. The Hansen guy already laughs, watching the show in front of him while he holds out some clothes for the other girl to take on. “Doesn’t look like you’re able to tame a brat, Kemp.”

The brown-haired man behind you rolls his eyes and pushes you forward. He uses such strength that you stumble over your own feet and fall down on the ground. Your knees hitting the cold floor first, and you whine at the force you’re thrown down.

“Fucking slut, do as you’re told, or I will help you to listen,” he growls. The playfulness he used with Hansen around is almost completely gone, and you’re greeted by an even colder and harsher man. He takes a heavy step closer to you, his boot nudging again your legs and pushing you further to the tub.

Lloyd smirks at you, loving the attitude you have. He would just throw you over the nearest surface and make you obey, but he loves the little show you’re putting on with Steve. “You sure got a feisty little thing there; bet you would love to have her, wouldn’t you?”

“She’s worth the fucking money,” Steve says, leaning down once more to grab the back of your neck and yanking you up until you’re kneeling in front of the tub. Your knees are pressed into the floor while he pushes your cheek into the edge of the tub. “Get the fuck out of your clothes. I’m not telling you that again.”

His voice is dripping with danger and warning. Steve’s eyes are narrowed when he lets go of your neck to give you the opportunity to take off your clothes. You’re turning your head, looking at Lloyd and the other girl who’s obediently kneeling in front of him.

“I’m not going to take off my clothes when you’re standing here like a perv,” you growl, glaring at Steve. A low chuckle leaves his lips, and before you can even wonder why he laughs, his big hand connects with your cheek. Your head flies to the side, and your ears are thrumming before you feel the pain in your cheek.

The loud sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, while Lloyd laughs and the other hybrid flinches. He grasps her neck and leads her to the door, saying something to Steve you can’t quite understand. Shock is still filling your every sense, and you feel tears burning in your eyes. The slap was harder than you thought it would be. He’s waiting for Lloyd and the hybrid to leave the room before he gives you his full attention.

“Call me a perv once more and you will have more than just a red cheek,” he growls darkly. He takes a step away from you and turns around, giving you — to your surprise — some privacy. Even if it’s just for him to get some shampoo and a towel. But it gives you the opportunity to take off your clothes and get into the tub without him watching every one of your movements intensely.

You’re pulling your knees against your chest, wrapping your arms tightly around it to cover yourself. Your tail tightly wrapped around your lower body to hide your private parts.

When Steve turns back to you, he smirks, nodding to himself. He puts the bottle of shampoo on the edge of the tub and turns on the water. It’s not cold and not hot; it has the perfect temperature for your muscles to relax — and to your dismay, he knows it damn well because his disgusting satisfied expression gets even worse.

“There you go, able to be such a good little girl, huh? Little sluts like you don’t get what they want, so you better do as you’re told,” he says, handing you some soap to clean your body. Steve takes the opportunity to put some of the shampoo onto your hair and rubs it into them. He’s gentle and nothing like the guy who threw you around and slapped you. “Your new owner will help you learn your place and make you obey him however he wants.”

You don’t struggle at all when they drag you onto the stage. The lights are blinding, and it makes it impossible for you to see the people sitting in front of it. You can only hear their voices, loud and deep. How did you end up there, on the stage, and within the next hour you will be paid for and have an owner.

Your stomach twists, and you swallow thickly, continuing to plan every little detail of how you will escape. This idiot can pay as much money as he wants, but he won’t get you as his personal pet or toy. You will run as fast and as far as you can the moment you walk out of the building. So he will pay for your freedom, not for a toy for himself.

“The first of the day…” a man announces, and suddenly everyone in the hall is quiet. You’re looking around, knowing that there are too many eyes on you to move without anyone knowing about it. The man, whose voice you recognize as Hansen’s, stands to your left on the stage. He’s holding a microphone in his hand and has his sarcastic grin still plastered on his face. “is a little puppy.”

The girl you saw earlier in the bathroom, with her bruised body, gets dragged forward to be presented in a better light. She sits still, her head hanging low while you hear people shouting offers into the hall.

You heard of human trafficking, or hybrid trafficking, but you never thought you would sit on one of those stages and wait for any of these sadistic men to offer the most money and get you as their pet. You’re not a pet; you may have cat ears and a tail, and your teeth may be sharper too, but it doesn’t make you a pet; it could never.

While you showed off your animal parts with proud — because hybrids are rare — you would prefer to hide them right now.

You're so lost in your thoughts that you’re not noticing the men shouting more and more offers into the room. The price of the dog hybrid being higher than a house or even a whole castle.

Only when someone — Lloyd — claps loudly into his hands are you pulled out of your thoughts back into reality. It’s quiet in the hall once again, and you notice a light in the crowd, pointing out one man, who’s standing there with a grin on his face.

He has thick, brown hair framing his face, his beard growing out. The man makes his way to the front while he taps on his phone. As he reaches Lloyd, you hear their conversation about some money transfer, and if that’s done, he could take his girl.

Lloyd turns to the people in the hall once more, the microphone still in his calloused hands when he laughs darkly. “There we go. The first got his new little toy, didn’t you, Levinson?

Without waiting for an answer, he looks at the stage, where you’re still sitting — with two others. You really don’t like that Hansen guy. However, Levinson looks like the nicer kind of person, even when he just bought a human — a hybrid.

“The next one is a feisty little kitty, ready to be tamed. Isn’t that right, Kemp?” Lloyd asks. Before you can do anything, he motions to the man behind you, who grabs your neck tightly. From the feeling of his fingers around you, you can say it’s Kemp; it’s like he has his mark on your body already since he touched you the first time. “There she is; pouring isn’t her strength. At least not yet.”

You glare at Lloyd, who makes these shit jokes about you. Actually, you would shout at him that he has no respect, but you know he doesn’t, plus it would satisfy him more. So you just stay quiet, your jaw clenched and your eyes narrowed.

“Five!” Someone shouts. Five bucks? Five… apples? What does he want to give five of to get you?

“Seven!” Someone else shouts, and you roll your eyes. Kemp's hand in your neck tightens. He pushes your head down to make you look at the ground. A low growl escaping his lips in warning.

They told you to be good and look down like a good pet. But you have the audacity to disobey and glare at them.

“Seven million,” Lloyd says loudly. Your head shoots you, and your eyes widen as you notice how much money they are talking about. Seven fucking million dollars! Who is so rich that he could buy a human — hybrid — for that much money?

“Look the fuck down or I rip off your clothes in front of everyone,” Steve says quietly, his voice dripping with dominance, and you know he would do just that if you don’t obey. So you turn your head back and look down, letting an annoyed groan escape your lips. Steve pushes your head down with more force. “Don't growl at me, little slut.”

“Seven million… Does someone offer more? Feisty, little kitten. She begs to be tamed, to be turned into a perfect housewife. Seven million, is that all?” Lloyd asks, looking around the room. You almost snort. Is that all? Seven million dollars, and he asks for more?

When you already think this guy whose face is hidden in the dark got you, someone else shouts an amount of money into the room that makes your mouth drop open. “Ten! Ten million, Hansen.”

Lloyd smirks, nodding and letting the light slide over the crowd to the man who just bought you. Only when the light is directly on him, showing him in all his glory, does Steve let go of your neck and allow you to look up at the other man.

He's tall, with blond, slightly longer hair and a beard. Not as much as the one whose name was Levinson, but pretty similar to him. The man’s muscles bulge through his shirt, which sits tightly like a second skin. But compared to Hansen or Kemp, he looks acceptable — for someone who bought you, someone you will escape once you’re leaving the building.

This guy may look strong, but he should never underestimate your strength. And since he doesn’t look as sadistic as those other guys, you’re sure he will understand if you kick his balls.

As you keep looking at him, he makes his way through the aisle toward the stage. His phone looks so small in his calloused hand that you shiver slightly. Your eyes roam further over his well-built body — over his shoulders, his chest, and his abs — until you notice something in his other hand, swinging with every one of his steps.

He’s holding a leash, like you’re a kind of dog he can put a collar around your neck and lead you with a leash. Maybe he’s not as acceptable as you thought — escaping may be harder with a collar and leash. That doesn’t help a kick in his balls then.

“Congrats, Rogers. Got yourself a feisty little thing,” Lloyd comments as they do the money transaction. Rogers's eyes are on you, a smirk across his face — to your surprise, it looks soft, and his ocean blue eyes have a calming effect on you. “There ya go. Hope you have as much fun as you hoped when you decided to spend that much for her.”

“Don’t worry, Hansen, I will,” he says; his voice is rough, just like his chuckle. He passes Hansen and walks closer to you. You’re still kneeling on the stage, your gaze away from him while you watch the other people getting ready for the next hybrid. Kemp took a few steps away from you. “Look at me, Kitten.”

You ignore him, hating the way he calls you by that pet name. He could call you bunny, puppy, or whatever, but kitten only causes you to know your place with him. You’re a pet — his pet.

“I said look at me, kitten,” he says, his voice lower than before. He brings his hand to your chin, yanking your head until you’re forced to look up at him. “I hope I don’t have to repeat myself again.”

His grip tightens before he throws your head back and reveals your neck to him. With one swift movement, he wraps the collar around your neck and closes it, the click sending another cold shiver down your spine. It’s not a kind of collar you can open easily; it’s one that’s only able to open when it’s connected to a phone and a password.

You were sure he’s a kind of sweeter, nicer guy. But his appearance was the complete opposite of the man who’s now towering above you. His eyes darker, cold like ice, and his jaw clenching. Steve attaches the leash to the collar and pulls you closer toward him.

“Be good, and we will have fun. Be bad, and I will have fun. Do you understand me, Kitten?” He asks, emphasizing the nickname. He knows too well how to make clear where your place is. Steve’s thick thigh pressing against your jaw to keep your eyes locked with him. There is not a hint of that soft smile or the ocean blue eyes that looked so precious a few minutes ago; it’s only the dominance that radiates from him. You stay quiet, but Steve notices the way your body tenses, knowing he has the control and strength to dominate you however he wants. “Good, now that we understand one another, let’s get you home.”

Taglist: @rogersbarber @loki-laufeyson68 @etherealdisneyvillainness @winterschildren8 @pono-pura-vida @kimmie113080 @sergeantbarnessdoll @sebastianstanisahotmf @mercurial-chuckles @holylulusworld @randomawesomeperson102 @looking1016 @multiversefanfics @kpopgirlbtssvt @iris-xoxo-juhu @fckedupandbeautiful @blackhawkfanatic @kandis-mom @armystay89 (add yourself.)

[tangerinesgirl]

Push Your Buttons

Sergei Kravinoff x Fem!Reader

Rating: 18+, explicit

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: pure smut, public sex, asphyxiation, sex used for information, rough sex, sexualised reader, mean boss, stranger/anonymous sex, creampie (wrap it up folks), size difference

Notes: slight canon deviation (yeah sure Kraven doesn't wear his wet button up during the Mr Tackling scene but he does now)

Totally oblivious to the man shouting at you to hold the elevator, you drown out your sorrows with your cheap, slightly on the turn, instant coffee, marinating in the same rusty travel cup you have used for years.

Even though you didn't exactly like working for Mr Tackling, you were in too deep now, you couldn't leave even if you wanted to. Honestly, you probably more know about his business than he does. Mr Tackling doesn't even see you as a human being most days, you're sure he only hired you to be his receptionist and personal assistant as a front, only wanting the eye candy, and barely thinks you do any work.

You're late coming in today. Originally on time, but sent home by Tackling as your outfit wasn't "short enough". He makes your skin crawl. But you have to obey his demands, trying not to think about what happened to the last man who did.

You're snapped back into reality by the sound of something loud hitting the door button on the elevator. Eyes widening as you immediately clock the source of the noise being a small metal knife. The doors remain open as the man slides through the gap before retrieving his knife.

Straight away, you feel unsafe being alone in the lift with him. You take in his appearance through the awkward silence, as the lift whirs upwards. Memorising him to warn someone when you are out of the enclosed space.

Young, you want to say 30s, brown hair, damp and slicked back, as if he's just been swimming. Beard, trimmed to a suitable length, but still with a wild quality to it. You can't get a good look at his eyes, his gaze furrowed, staring at the ground.

You almost double take when you glance at his bare feet. What happened to his shoes?

Black trousers and white shirt, dripping wet. Unbuttoned at the collar teasing the muscles he is hiding underneath. Rolled up at the arms, his veins and muscles nearly pop out as he clenches his fists. Angry? Or preparing for something?

You can't deny he is a handsome man, even though you are scared, you can't help but be attracted to his ruggedness. Your breath hitches in your throat, unable to help clearing it with a cough.

As you do so, the man snaps out of his trance to look at you. His brown eyes tracing you up and down. You avoid his gaze and nervously pull down your short skirt, suddenly becoming self conscious at him oggling you.

Suddenly the man lunges forward, his body towering over yours, you back into the wall as he reaches behind you to press a button on the lift panel. The lift comes to an abrupt halt, the alarm starting to ring in your ears.

The noise of your own heart beating drowns out the alarm as you stare at the man in front of you, neither of you moving even after pressing the button. His hand next to your head, looming over you as his beard statts to tickle your face. You wait for him to make the first move.

"You know Mr Tackling?"

His voice rumbles through his chest, the deep bassy notes going straight to your core. You can't help but wonder what your name would sound like with his Russian accent.

"I uh...yeah, I'm his PA."

SHIT why did you tell him that? You don't know who this man is, you fear you may have put a mark over your head now. You guess he would find out anyway, your job being common knowledge around the office.

The man hums in thought.

"Would you tell me where he is?"

You hesitate, less likely to give up that information.

"I, I'm not sur-"

He moves his arm by the side of your head to your chin, cupping it to moving your face upwards, making you look at him. On closer inspection, you start to notice blood specks on his white shirt. You doubt it is his own.

"I won't ask again", he continues.

"What are you going to do to him?", you ask, but really, you already know the answer.

"You really have sympathy towards him? The man who sends you home to change as you don't look hot enough for him?"

"How did-"

"Never letting him touch you...", his hand travels down your body, catching on your blouse, "but yet let a complete stranger do so?"

You look away guilty, blushing at his words. You do like the attention he's showing you, part of the anonymity scares as well as excites you.

His hand snaps back onto your head as he pushes your cheek, making you look at him once again. Your coffee cup falls out of your hand in shock, spilling onto the laminate floor.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you."

His words sting, but end up going straight to your core. You should be afraid, but your body is saying otherwise, and he knows it.

"Will you show me where he is? ...or am I going to have to fuck the information out of you?"

The damp of his shirt starts to seep into yours at the close proximity. You can't seem to find the words, taken aback by his boldness. You start to move your leg up his, saying more than what you could have done with words. Your bare legs catching on the creases of his trousers.

The man looks at your lips, hungrily, as you trail up his leg. Seems you're both just as into this. He nods subtly, picking up on your consent, before his lips crash into yours. The force pushes you further back into the wall, both his arms leaning against the glass for stability as his tongue explores your mouth. You glance at his arms, his hands steaming up the mirror, as you moan softly into the kiss. You can't help but wonder what those hands look like wrapped around other parts of your body. You start to grind your hips on his crotch at the thought, slowly starting to feel his erection through his trousers.

He pulls away from the kiss briefly to yank your shirt open, the sound of buttons popping off around the elevator. His hands immediately palming at your bra, dipping inside to caress your breasts. You melt into his grip as your hand dips underneath your underwear.

The man stops to unzip his trousers, his cock bouncing free in the very little space between you. He wastes no time as he pulls your panties to one side to slide his cock inside you. You're grateful you decided to touch yourself before he did this, making entry a little easier, not quite realising exactly how big he is. He struggles to fit himself inside you.

"Fuck, so tight", he whispers absentmindedly next to your ear.

He grips hold of one of your legs, lifting it, spreading you further apart to make room for more of his cock. Slowly starting to thrust into you, you squirm underneath him, desperate for more. The wall behind you digs into your back with each push. You wrap your leg around his waist, making him fully insert himself into you.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head feeling him stretch you completely. Looking at him, you notice he's also totally blissed out, with some small shock and impressed looks glinting in his eyes. He takes a second before continuing to thrust inside you. Part of you wonders if he's ever managed to fully seat inside anyone else before, with his reaction.

The force of his pace winds you, unable to make any noise. You somehow can hear him pant and moan over the continuing alarm. Your body goes limp as you let this complete stranger fuck you however he seem fit, your hands digging into his back through his shirt, clawing into him for stability, craving for him to be even closer to you.

His lips start to trail down your jaw, before reaching your neck, feeling him leaving bites and bruises, you wonder what your boss would think seeing them. You swear he even growls as he does so, like a wild animal. His hand instinctively pushes some of your hair behind your ear, giving him more access. But his fingers linger there, teasing the pulse point on your jugular. Lifting his head, he sees your eyes pleading with him, letting him use you however he wanted to.

His hand effortlessly engulfs your entire neck, as he gently presses the sides. You can feel him still spearing up inside of you as the oxygen escapes your throat. His other hand ghosting at your entrance, before his fingers start to rub at your clit. He watches you closely, enjoying this power over you, and the way your walls swallow his cock perfectly.

He can feel himself close to release too, he tries to pull himself from you, but your steel grip on his back lets him know to continue. Before you know it, his pace starts to stutter, pushing one final time up into your cervix. Warmth rushes inside your cunt, his seed filling you up is nearly enough to make you orgasm again. You hum gently at the feeling. His cum starts to seep out of you, onto his trousers, but neither of you care right now.

The overstimulation is enough to make you cum. The combination of him fucking into you, playing with your bundle of nerves and seeing the veins in his hands flex and control your breathing, makes you unravel. Your toes curl inside your heels as your walls clench around him, feeling every vein of his cock as your orgasm washes over your body.

There's a pause as you both come down from your high. He removes himself from you, tucking his cock back into his trousers, pressing the alarm button again, the elevator whirring back into action.

You catch your breath as you pull your skirt down, going to do up your blouse but cursing when you remember it no longer has buttons. The man can't help but smirk seeing you have no choice but to have your bra on display. You can still feel his seed drip out of you, through your underwear and onto the floor. The elevator gives you no time to regain your thoughts as you reach the top of the building.

As soon as the door opens, you're greeted to a handful of people waiting for the elevator. Various murmurs of "about time" and "what's the hold up?" pause when they see the doors unveil the two of you. The smell of coffee and sex wafts through the air as you quickly squeeze past them, avoiding the embarrassment. The man in the lift following you, quick on your heels.

One worker eventually pipes up.

"I guess I'll take the next one."

[livelaughlou]

20. on a scar

Oooooh! OMG, this is perfect because I really wanted to write something based on all of those pics of Lou cooking/using knives (oh Lou) while not wearing a shirt.

"You know," Buck says slowly, staring at Tommy in what he knows must be something close to disbelief. "This explains so much."

Tommy laughs and pauses his chopping to turn to Buck with a raised eyebrow. "What does?"

"You doing this with no shirt on," Buck says with a shake of his head. "You're covered in various scars. You should know better."

He can't help himself and comes beside him to kiss a scar on his upper arm.

"Well," Tommy says. "That scar is actually from basketball."

It's Buck's turn to laugh. "Shocker. Okay, but why do you cook shirtless?"

"I get hot," Tommy says simply. "Are you complaining?"

"Only if I have to take you to the ER because you've splattered yourself with hot oil or cut off your own nipple or something."

Tommy grimaces. "I'd say you're exaggerating but I've seen both of those happen."

Buck laughs again. "Me too."

Do you want me to put a shirt on then?

Buck thinks about this and starts to plant kisses along the backs of Tommy's shoulders and neck. "Hmm, no, I don't think that's necessary. The view is pretty fantastic. I'll just have to keep a close eye on you, is all."

"That's different, how?" Tommy snarks, going back to his chopping.

Buck kisses a knob in his spine. "It's not. Are you complaining?"

Tommy pauses again and turns his head in a blatant demand for a kiss and of course Buck obliges him.

"Never."

[thedropsofblood]

A wolf in hunter's clothing

Warnings: Dub-con, age gap (????), mostly gender neutral but made with male reader in mind, size difference, started as rough -> slightly sweet mid-way, bratty reader, overstimulation, dacryphilia, blindfolding, implied obsessive behaviour.

Word count: 8.8k

Minors DNI, do not report, I WILL cry /nsrs

Isekai, the act of transporting a person from earth to a different planet, world, universe, usually of a novel or a video game. It was a childish concept that you haven't bothered and never intended to look into, until you got 'isekaied' yourself.

Unlike what your younger siblings have told you, instead of beautiful vast magical worlds filled with sub-human species and a logical storyplot, you ended up in the most boring case scenario, a fairy tale. Specifically, the "Red Riding Hood" children's book that fell out of the shelf and onto the ground next to you while you were at a bookstore.

As any normal person does, you picked up the book, hoping to put it back to it's original spot, but got your body sucked into the pages instead. To be fair, it could've been worse, so, so much worse. You luckily didn't become the new Red Riding Hood, instead, you became the older brother of the Red Riding Hood.

It's not as bad as it sounds, like, you have a loving and caring family of both parents and an adorable younger sister, as well as a grandmother who you occasionally visits for the first 18 years of your life. What more could you ask for?

The life of your younger sister, that's what you could ask for. Even if they're technically not real, you couldn't help but care for them, care for the years of family meetings, the little happy moments, the vacations, even something as trivial as a meal together. And yet, imagine how your heart sunk in once you heard your mother tell your sister to deliver the cookies to your grandmother tomorrow after hearing rumors of the hunter being on break on the same day.

It made your anxiety levels go wayhire. Your sister's and your grandmother's life depended on the hunter after all, what would happen to them if there's no more hunter? Will they die under the wolf's hands? Can you even escape this book if they die?

.

.

.

Would you be trapped here forever then? What about your family outside of this? Would they even still remember you after 18 years? Worse, what if they just, hate you now?

Why should you even leave this place if that's the case?...

You crawled onto a ball on your bed, hugging onto the soft pillow in search of even a little bit of comfort. This place wasn't real, none of this is, your world was simply a scramble of words combined together by some random old man hundreds of years back, hell, you weren't even supposed to be here, why would you care if your supposed 'sister' and 'grandmother' dies?

Yet you found yourself restless. You had an idea on what to do, god knows if it'll work, but... It'll never hurt to try, right?

You throw your pillow away and change into warmer clothes, turning off the lights before sneaking out of the house through the window, heading directly towards the bright tavern in the middle of the town.

"Brother, why are you not eating? Do you not like it?" The voice of your sister knocked you right out of your thoughts, scrambling to take a bite out of the sandwich she made for you.

"No no- it's good, it's good, I'm just thinking about what I need to get for groceries." Your sister barely bought your excuse, barely. You can still see her crossing her arms and pouting in the corner of your eyes. She was glaring at you for a few solid minutes, as if trying to pry the truth from you. With a huff, she leaned back against the chair and muttered under her breath.

"Remember to buy some candy for me while you're at it then, I'm gonna go now. I don't wanna leave grandma waiting." You let out a mental sigh of relief, ruffling your little sister's hair. "You're just as childish as ever." You chuckled.

Before you sister leaves, she jumped into your arms to give you a hug causing a small smile escapes from your mouth. Your hand reached up to pat her on the head, if you had to be honest, you don't know if you regret your deal with the hunter or not anymore.

"Shit... If I knew slacking off would get you on my dick, I would've taken so many vacations."

The hunter chuckled, leaning in to place a loving kiss on your forehead. You pushed his head back to give him a glare, well, as best as a glare could be with the blindfold covering your eyes. You barked, gritting your teeth as you tried to kick him in the stomach.

"Shut the fuck up and just get it done with already. This deal was only for my family, bastard. Bet you can't even get anyone else to get into bed with you without forcing them into shitty deals-" Your words were cut mid way when he firmly slapped you across your face, his other hand gripping your ankle and hosteling your leg onto his shoulder.

You hissed in annoyance, yet a part of you felt pride for successfully pissing the hunter off. You can only assume what his face was like right now, is he glaring down at you like a lamb in the slaughter or is that stupid smug smirk on his face away? You didn't even have time to guess twice before he shoved his fingers into your mouth with a firm "Suck."

You held yourself back from laughing when you got your answer immediately, this guy was pissed as fuck. You decided to comply anyways, sucking on his fingers and making sure to bite them lightly as you pulled back.

"Sweetheart, did nobody teach you to not play with fire?" His hand wandered down to thrust his fingers roughing into you, his other hand gripping onto your chin to muffle your noises with a kiss.

This fucking bastard didn't even give you a warning before he turned you into puddy over his fingers, you bit onto the bottom of his lips, but instead of him pulling away, he continued on, ignoring the way you clawed onto his back as if you were trying to murder him.

Your hands reach up to try and remove your blindfold out of annoyance, leading to his hand snapping up to hold your wrists together, the other one pulling out of you to unbuckle his belt. "Good boys don't disobey their orders, sweetheart." He chuckled half-heartedly.

That scratched you in the worst way possible, but before you could even react, he thrust the tip of his dick into you, stealing all the air out of your lungs. "Fucking! Ugh- Warn me!" Your nails dug onto your palm, you felt like all your body strength just disappeared into thin air.

You didn't even have time to complain about it after he thrusted fully into you, huffing at the sight of your body shaking like a leaf under him. It was adorable how your attitude went away as soon as he entered, but to be fair, you would probably be more horrified when you realized his dick made a small bump on your stomach.

"What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?" He chuckled, placing a kiss on your forehead as he started moving at a fairly gentle pace. He freed your wrists to grip onto your hips, leaning forward to place comforting kisses on your neck. "Come on, let me hear those beautiful noises of yours, sweetheart."

You bit the bottom of your lip to the point of drawing blood, your hands gripping onto the bedsheets underneath to the point of your knuckles turning white. Despite your efforts, some small muffled noises still managed to escape your throat, which was enough for him to speed up his ravage with a satisfied grin.

"You're truly so, so adorable, sweetheart." He groaned, hugging you and burying his face into your collarbone. Your hand moved to grip onto his hair to try and push him away, but it barely felt like anything to him due to the lack of strength in your body. Your antics didn't last long anyways, you were already a cock-drunk moaning mess under him, and at this point, he thinks he likes you better this way.

Those thoughts made him bite your neck roughly as he threw away all self control he had, prioritizing on chasing his own pleasure instead. You wouldn't have complained if you didn't get overstimulated from that, you already came a few moments beforehand, and he didn't even give you a break from abusing your sweet spot even more.

You couldn't be bothered to try and stay quiet when you felt like you would break under him. As a warm feeling filled your stomach, you felt lightheaded as you closed your eyes, trying to calm yourself down from the climax.

He pulled you into a hug, his hand patting you on the back of your head as he pulled out and rested you on your side. Before you drifted off to sleep, you felt a kiss on your cheek as he muttered something you couldn't make out.

"Sir, the library is closing, please wake up before we have to drag you out."

You snapped up, realising you've fallen asleep while working on a deadline in the library. You quickly apologized, scrambling to put your books and laptop away into your backpack before leaving, thanking the librarian on your way out.

What did you dream of again? You don't really remember, but for some reason, that librarian looked really familiar to a man in your dream. Weird, not to mention the weird red marks on your neck. You brushed it off your mind as you head home, excited to show your nephew the new book you bought for them.

A/N: This was supposed to be wolf X reader but I felt like writing some dilfs today, wondering if I should start writing more dilfs...

[psychemochanight]

This may sound bad, but there's something I've noticed that bothers some of Nightwing fans, and it's not exactly something new (since Jason's first appearance, actually)-

And for many, as a new batfamily member appears, the writers seem to take away or diminish some quality in Dick to enhance it in another character

Let me explain:

One of the reasons why many people initially disliked Jason (not the only reason, by far), is that they saw him as a copy of Dick, even if they both had their differences, many did not feel that Jason had anything "special" that separated him from Dick.

And for those who say the difference is that Jason was cheerful and Dick wasn't, no, that's a modern thing, and that interpretation was given especially because it was the time when Dick was more "angry" as Discowing; same with those who say that Jason was the only model student, when in fact, Dick was also a star student, there is even a panel where some students dismiss the possibility that he is Robin because Dick was a "bookworm".

That's partly why many applauded the change he made in becoming Red Hood, because it gave the character something that set him apart, that made him unique.

With Tim is when this change that they make to Dick (more the fandom than the writers themselves, but it is growing in them too) was most noticeable, to enhance Tim's qualities.

When talking about Tim (and God knows how much I adore canon Tim, he's so damn cool), people ALWAYS downplay Richard's detective skills to highlight Tim's. To make him look like the only good detective in the family after Batman.

People forget that Dick was originally like a mini-copy of Batman, but he was destined to surpass him. Not just in combat, but in detective skills as well. Before they even thought about a new Robin, there were already hints that Dick was, and would be, better than Batman.

Even with the appearance of other family members, Dick's abilities were still pointed out. I'm not talking about his physical agility, but his mental agility.

Dick was a genius, just like the other members of the family, he was ALWAYS pointed out as someone so intelligent, someone logical. He also has extraordinary skills with technology, He didn't need someone to back him up with hacking issues 24/7, he could do it himself, not always, but most of the time.

Now, what they point out the most is his physical agility and leadership (characteristics that he always had), but they leave aside his other aspects, such as combat ability and above all, his capabilities as a detective, like someone intelligent.

Some even bring up that Ra's called Tim "detective", when in reality he also called Dick that, and I'm pretty sure he also called Jason that at some point.

I want to clarify, that with this I am NOT saying that Tim's skills are inferior, AT ALL. I am one of those who think that Tim was the one who finished polishing Robin's name, the one that gave it a meaning beyond being Batman's sidekick, the one who turned Robin into his own hero. Tim is probably a prodigious detective, but like Dick, he too needed help honing those skills. Damn, it was Dick himself who taught Tim how to be a full-fledged detective.

But seriously, I'm not saying this to put Tim down, but to talk about the need to put Dick down in order to elevate others.

Even with Cass this happened, Cass fans throw away Dick's abilities to bring out Cass's when that is not necessary, like, It is more than possible to highlight the qualities of your favorite characters without putting down the others.

There were even times where people were putting Dick down for Damian, and I honestly didn't even understand why, but aha.

I think you're getting my point across, right?

Again, I am NOT trying to say that ANY character's skills should be nerfed, on the contrary, I feel like people should stop doing that just to level up other characters' abilities.

The fact that Dick is also a prodigious detective does not make Tim any less of a detective ? The fact that he also knows how to handle technology does not make Barbara any less competent at her job ? Just because he's an excellent fighter doesn't make Cass the weakest ???? God, just because he was a light in Batman's life too doesn't make Jason any less of his son!

Partly yes, it was the writers' fault for giving Dick too many abilities from the start, which made it harder for later characters to stand out in their own fields, but, fr, taking away his abilities to getting up the rest is not the solution at this point either.

And as I said, this mostly comes from before there were even other members of the batfamily, Dick's only purpose was to be better than Batman, it wasn't even the plan to be his own person yet. Probably for a while, the plan could even be that the next Batkid would accompany Dick as the next great detective, and then the next batkid would take the mantle and so on, a chain. I'm not saying that's the case, but that's honestly what it seems like from the way their abilities are written, at least before they started really developing them as their own individual person.

Something I love about part of the fandom is that there are people who understand that Dick was an inspiration, so that his younger siblings did not inhibit his abilities, but rather learned from him, and then surpassed him with their owns, just as Dick did with Batman. Idk.

And... Yeah, that's just me complaining about my favorite character being downgraded when he's clearly way more capable than the fandom gives him credit for <3

This is me btw

[kararisa]

darling, starling

— 26. home — ✦ (wc: 0.6k)

notes: trying out a bit of a different style of writing ^^ hope you guys enjoy!

cw: online harassment targeted at reader & characters, self-deprecating thoughts

You’re used to this.

Getting criticism and some hate comments here and there is nothing new for you. It's all part of the business in this industry.

And you haven't gotten this far without having gone through a scandal or two. 

Maybe it’s the storm outside your window, or maybe it’s your melancholia. Maybe you’ve always been like this — hungry for more and more.

Attention. Praise. Love. You wanted all of it and more. You needed it more than you needed air.

All eyes are on you, now more than ever. It's been like this for years.

You should be used to this.

You just hate the fact that you have to drag him down with you.

He doesn't deserve any of this.

None of your friends deserve this.

What were you thinking, agreeing to his deal? You threw him to the wolves and put his private life on display, all to fulfill your fantasies of him liking you back. 

It's nothing but a lie anyway. 

You may be used to hating yourself, but it's a different thing entirely to see the world turn against you.

You deserve this. 

With the rain picking up, you should probably get home soon. But to be fair, it wasn’t raining that hard when you went out.

You probably should have listened to Yoimiya when she said to not go out. The pouring rain drenches you from head to toe the moment you step outside. An umbrella would have been useful, but it’s not like you had the foresight to bring one.

God, it’s fucking cold.

Yoimiya and Ayaka have probably told Scaramouche that you went out. And at this rate, he’s probably worried about you. He really shouldn’t be wasting his energy like that. He shouldn’t be wasting his efforts on you at all.

The fact that he’s going on interviews when you know he hates doing them feels like a weight on your chest, a mixture of guilt and self-hatred that manifested as a storm that mirrored the cold, unforgiving rain as you dragged your feet across the wet pavement.

An umbrella covers you, interrupting the ceaseless torrent of rain and your thoughts.

“Idiot,” Scaramouche says. You can barely hear him over the rain. “Why are you out here? It’s late; something could have happened to you.”

It’s hard to look him in the eye, so you don’t bother. “You shouldn’t have come after me. I’m not worth all your efforts.”

Scaramouche furrows his brow, “What are you talking about? Of course you are. Come on, let’s go home.”

The next words are lodged in your throat, but you keep going.

“Break up with me.”

It’s better this way.

“I don’t want you to have to suffer because of me.”

He shouldn’t have to be dragged down with you.

“Even if I bounce back from this, which I highly doubt I will, this won’t be the last time people talk shit about us. Please, Scaramouche. Leave me while you still can. You don’t deserve any of this.”

He’s silent for a moment. Unmoving. You’re bracing yourself for his response when he moves closer toward you.

“I’m not going to leave your side. Not when you need all the support you can get,” Scaramouche says, cupping your face with his hand. His hand is so warm. A welcome change to the cold of the rain. “And I’m sure as hell not breaking up with you.”

“We don’t even know if public opinion will change after your interviews are published,” you argued.

Scaramouche nods. “I know. But I still wanted to try and help you in any way I could.”

Against all odds, Scaramouche presses closer to you and wraps his arms around you. Against all doubts, you bury your face into him. He only holds you tighter.

“You will always be worth the effort,” he says softly. “And even if the world hates you, you have us. You have me.” 

Scaramouche takes your hand in his, intertwining your fingers together. You have a feeling he won’t let go any time soon. You hope he never does.

“Come on, let’s get you home.”

✧— previous — masterlist — next —✧

summary: being the world-famous singer-songwriter "zenith", the limelight has been on you ever since the start of your career. however, the media becomes relentless when leaks of music you never meant to release begin to circulate. your friend scaramouche, meanwhile, seems to have gotten stuck while writing his second book. with a deadline fast approaching, he comes to you with a deal: act as if you're dating him so he can gather reference material and, in turn, he'll help keep the press' eyes off of your leaks until you release your next album. a win-win in your book, so why not help a friend out?

author's notes:

my favorite chapter to write by far ^^ hope you guys enjoyed!!

taglist — currently CLOSED:

@aestherin @your-kuya-pogi @yourstrulykore @krnzysh @vxnuslogy @yumiaur @featuredtofu @kodzusmiles @meigalaxy @nymphxie @motherscrustytoenailclippings @samyayaya @hiimera @beriiov @e0nssadrift @dazaisboner @nillajhayne @chluuvr @deffenferofjustice @romyoia @xiaomainlmao @hotgirlshit5 @potabletable @letthewindlead @esuz @toriiee @kclremin @angelkazusstuff @phoenix-eclipses @sakiimeo @mayuumine @lilybythevalley @one-and-only-tay @keiiqq @what-just-happened-huh @haunts-gh0st @layla240 @miaakai @duckyyyx @cinnaniyoom @kgogoma @xtobefreex @mechanicalbeat1 @feiherp @venturinea @nnasv @retiredmommylover @onmywaytoteyvat @tiredslepz @saccharine-sucks

[negrowhat]

Fave Kisses of 2024

Continuing on with the handful of prompts I chose to do from @babyangelsky 's 2024 QL Wrap Up!

JackJoke's First Kiss from Jack & Joker. Oh it was like the tension pot had finally started to boil. Just bubbling and brewing and steam was finally escaping...whistling even. Jack had returned home full on ready to finally confess and Joke, who already KNEW, was sitting there ready to receive his blessing. Oh Joke was so ready for that kiss that he practically climbed into Jack's lap to keep it going. You could see the hunger in Joke's eyes and Jack's eager but gentle approach to the kiss. 10/10.

Dohoe and Juyeong's Snow Kiss from Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo. Something about the way they kind of lost themselves in that kiss. I was shocked Dohoe kissed Juyeong out in the open like that, but he was in a different place in his journey so maybe it's not so shocking. Juyeong's hands around Dohoe's waist??? Oh it was my favorite part and my heart all but stopped when Dohoe suddenly came to his senses and pulled away.

GreatTyme's Guitar Kiss from 4 Minutes. That soft ass dream kiss from Dr. Tyme's 4 Minutes had me absolutely OBSESSED. Idk it was just so romantic and so sweet and so perfect. I could just feel the warmth coming from the bubble Tyme was dreaming about. Tyme's 4 Minutes is still my absolute fave part of the whole series.

Huai'en and Xiabao's First Kiss from Meet You At the Blossom. I've talked about it and talked about it and talked about it some more. None of y'all are surprised to see this kiss on this list. I don't even need to explain why because I'm sick of explaining lol. Go watch our first ever Uncensored Wuxia BL. Nothing is implied it's all there. Go watch it now! MYATB is from the same writer of My Stand-In if that helps.

Sickly Phaya kisses Tharn from The Sign. That man woke up from a coma (that almost supernaturally killed him), snatched out his IV, and escaped the hospital. And where did he go? Not to go check-in with his lil granny and baby sister! NO! He went to his man's house and shoved his tongue down his throat. Man was white as a sheet and all he wanted to do was get his dick wet. And Tharn just let him. I loved that kiss and the makeout session that followed.

YakDee over shoulder kiss from Wandee Goodday. Pretty certain it was from their last love scene because they were kissing. I don't even remember how the scene went exactly (they fucked so much) but that lil peck over the shoulder was so gorgeous. Yak had his chest pressed to Dee's back and the 'YY' necklace was displayed so clearly. 100/10.

XNamping's High Heat Encounter from Every You, Every Me. That little peck right before things started to heat up. Just a quick lil lip touch to gauge the temperature...y'know see if it's what they both really want. It is. I know X was FREAKING out, couldn't believe he was finally being intimate with his long time crush.

SanVee's final night kiss from Century of Love. I'm a huge fan of the soft cuddly kisses we got from SanVee and that snuggle session we got right before San's last day was my fave. The way San holds Vee to his chest so tightly as they share gentle kisses. The impending doom hanging heavy over their heads. It hurt so fucking good.

RyuZen's Shower Kiss from The Rebound. One thang MeenPing gon do is kiss in a shower and do it right. Meen's giant ass does a great job of making Ping look smol and when you add water to that it is just so visually pleasing. I don't remember much else about the kiss except Ryu was all over Zen and Zen almost couldn't keep up. If we get another MeenPing series I hope it can sit at the top next to Gangster Oppa.

2J Bathroom Kiss from CityBoy_Log. The most recent volume of CBL was really good for 2J. They had just made up after Jihan ghosted Jaejun and IDK how Jihan conned Jaejun into helping him bathe but they do wind up in the tub together, fully clothed though because Jaejun said he was just going to help him wash his hair. And the next thing I know Jihan has Jaejun pressed up against the shower wall. 2J's kisses tend to be very audible and this one was amplified and my gawd those boys can kiss. And when Jaejun slams Jihan against the other wall and they finally share their 'I Love You's I was clutching the pearls. I'm realizing I enjoyed CBL more than I thought.

SunJunior's First Kiss from Caged Again. Oh it was so sweet. Love that they were hiding under the covers. I love that Sun had finally told Junior about him being a panther. That's a big secret to share and it did give me Malec vibes which could also add to my love for the scene. Love that Junior smiled at Sun the whole time. It was a great first kiss during a vulnerable moment for Sun and Junior. Loved how warm and secure it looked under that cover.

To my mutuals, please forgive me if y'all have multiple mentions from this one post...

[camcat1320]

Everyone says that ATLA was a masterpiece of a series but I think it could've been even better if they would've had a 4th season.

Aaron Ehasz, the head writer, stated that he was always planning their arcs to be in 4 seasons. That's why so many things were left dangling at the end of Book 3. To me, I believe everyone's arcs are incomplete. Ehasz stated he planned to give Azula a redemption arc and to have Aang deal with the negative consequences of taking away Ozai's bending.

Unfortunately, shipping wars amongst the writers put an end to a 4th season. Bryke wanted it their way or the highway and got the final say because they're the creators.

The tea shop ending makes no sense anyways. Zuko was just made Fire Lord, why is he in the Earth Kingdom just chilling? He got work to do. Also, show me some more character development. He is 16 and ruling a nation, who struggled in his education growing up, and the whole war meeting fiasco that got him burned and banished. The kid is going to be pretty fricken nervous! Give him an identity crisis, worried that he'll end up being like his father, let him struggle with learning that he is in fact a better man than Ozai ever was.

Let Aang show his duality that we've seen hints of throughout the series. Make him deal with the consequences of taking away someone's bending, taking in the extra chi (qi) into himself. Make him struggle with his spirit-y powers. Make him chase after the girl but along the way accidentally fall in love with someone else, someone who is a better fit for him.

Give Sokka a monkey wrench to his development. He got an injured leg, expand on it! What does it mean to be a man with a disability? It's harder for him to fight so less able to protect his loved ones. Does that make him less of a man? Let him become an inventor, something he can do, focusing on his other talents. Give Sokka a character to develop a brother bond with more than what Aang or Zuko can. Give Sokka positive and negative consequences for his inventions. Let him and Suki have relationship tension to show that relationships are hard work and dedication instead of "get the girl, live happily ever after". Ember Island, Suki was glaring at Sokka as if she was irritated. Expand her character and explore this.

Katara just unlocked bloodbending and explored her dark side a little bit. At the end of Southern Raiders, she still struggled to understand what made her stop from ending Yon Rha. Explore this! Let her struggle with her identity, have her struggle with learning and embracing her duality. Help her grow to understand that everyone has a light side and a dark side and what we all strive to achieve is balance between these two. She can be a loving, compassionate healer at the same time as being a ruthless, powerful force not to be messed with.

What about Toph? She ran away from home and thinks she hurt her parents when she did. She misses her parents and wants to reach out to them, sending a letter with Katara's help. Let her reunite with her family, let them reconcile and give backstory as to why her parents are the way they are. Her arc was mostly about letting people in and softening the hard exterior she had made for herself. Take it further!

I can keep going on for even the smallest of side characters. But in the end, let it be mainly about chosen family. That we are better together in a diverse world, reaching hands across national borders, appreciating similarities and respecting differences. This could've been the greatest show of all time if it only had a 4th season.

This is why I'm writing Book 4: Air myself. Correcting the injustice the creators have done to the beautiful series.

No, it’s no development if Mai—who is known for her specific traits such as her apathy—suddenly starts acting completely differently, just because the plot takes place a few years after her first introduction.

Either you show me how she changed within the story, or, if this would take too long, with a brief retrospective. But the reason has to be shown or at least mentioned. This is still storytelling and not the real world where you run into an old acquaintance after years, notice they’ve changed, and you’re just like: Oh, they must’ve gained a more positive attitude, good for them. She is a character of a TV show, written with specific traits.

From what I’ve seen, Mai in the new comic is introduced as just always being anti-imperialist and loving—we all just completely misunderstood her, right?

And, honestly, I would’ve been happy for her, if she had undergone real character growth, learning to show love and affection while gaining strong beliefs in anti-imperialism. That would actually make for a compelling story I would love to read.

But no, this time, it’s not only retconning past criticisms through the ATLA comics. The creators are acting as though she has always been this way. 🙄 Not to mention that the story itself doesn’t make any sense. And, as always, there are the stans who are acting as if the characters are real people, and there is no storytelling needed... This is indeed a phenomenon.

[kiryoutann]

Before reading, please check series masterlist to read the warning(s), disclaimer, and to make sure you’re on the right chapter. Minors do NOT interact.

If you enjoy this, you can buy me a Ko-fi :) Likes, reblogs, and comments are greatly appreciated!

The sounds around him were different from what he was used to—no gunfire or heavy footsteps, no shoutings from Price about night ambushes, no Johnny’s loud snoring. Simon peered through heavy eyelids, finding out it’s just the bloody annoying birds chirping outside. Groaning, he turned his aching body and reached his arms out.

Only to find the other side of the bed empty of his wife’s presence. Simon furrowed his brows, frowning. God, he’s such a grumpy old bastard, isn’t he?

Simon jerked upright, alerted by the clattering sound coming from outside the bedroom—the old dog instincts in him kicked in, only to be quickly quelled by his more recently acquired instincts shaped by the realities of the last seven years. He got up from the bed, trying not to be too agitated, making his way to investigate.

Upon entering the kitchen, his shoulders sagged with relief as he laid his eyes on the sole culprit—crouching on the floor, attempting to tidy up a mess of spilled milk and cereal with a torn kitchen towel. No doubt the source of the noise.

Walking over slowly so as not to scare her, he then asked, “What’s goin’ on ‘ere then?”

Gianna whipped around in a flash like a criminal caught in the act, her big brown eyes gleaming with a touch of guilt but not a trace of fear. "I dropped my cereal," she confessed succinctly, mirroring a trait she had unquestionably inherited from her father.

He crouched down next to her. “’Ere, let me help you with that,” then reached out, taking the paper towel from her tiny hands and started cleaning up.

Gianna just watched him until she finally spoke. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I didn’t mean to make a mess.”

“’S alright, darlin’. Accidents ‘appen.” Simon stated, rising to his feet and tossing the used tissues into the trash can. He then turned his attention back to his daughter. “But you could’ve woke me up. I’d ‘ave helped you clean it up straight away.”

“I know, but you were sleeping. An’ mum says you sleep like a… like a… clog?”

At that, he couldn't help but chuckle. “I think you mean a log, love.” He corrected.

“Oh right!” The little girl exclaims, nodding her head. “Tha’s the word. You sleep like a log.”

“Yeah, alright, whatever yer mum says.” He glanced at the box of cereal still sitting on the kitchen counter, then decided to keep himself and his daughter away from it. “So cereal is no option then. What d’you want for breakfast instead?”

Without missing a beat, Gianna chirps, “Ice cream!”

Simon snorts, shaking his head. “Can’t ‘ave ice cream for breakfast, darlin’.”

Gianna tilts her head to the side, eyes looking up at him questioningly. "Why not?" she asked. “Mummy 'as coffee for breakfast, alllll the time!” she spreads her arms out for dramatic effect—he chuckles at that. Definitely got it from mommy.

“Yeah, don’t be like yer mum, alright?”

The girl frowns slightly. “But why not? Mummy’s pretty, an’ she cooks good food.”

Something he couldn’t disagree with. He nodded, reaching out to ruffle her blonde hair. “That she does, darlin’. But we still don’t want you havin’ coffee or ice cream for breakfast, alright?”

"Okay, then can we go to Uncle John's house?" she asked.

“An’ why’s that?”

Gianna bounced on her toes, her arms swinging. “I miss Buddy an’ Daisy!”

Simon groaned inwardly. Should’ve known she’d bring that up. Ever since that one time he brought her to Price’s place and she met his dogs, Gianna has been begging to go back. Every time after school—“Can we go to Uncle John’s house?” Every weekend—“Can we go to Uncle John’s house?” And the thing is, the bloody mutts aren’t even there anymore, not since Price and his missus divorced.

“The dogs ain't there anymore, love.” He watched her face fall.

"Why not?" she asked, eyes wide in confusion.

Simon shrugged. “Cause,” he trailed off, not really wanting to explain the whole messy divorce situation to a five-year-old. “Nevermind that. What d’you want for breakfast?”

Instead of answering, Gianna crossed her arms while frowning. “I don’t want breakfast. I want Buddy an’ Daisy!

A sigh escaped Simon as the results of his parenting bit him in the ass. Bloody hell, he had to stop surrendering to her big eyes and pouting lips—just like her mum. She had learned from the best, hadn’t she? Got him wrapped around her tiny finger. There was only one trick up his sleeve to get her to cooperate.

“If you don’t eat breakfast, then then we won’t be able to go an’ watch yer mum later.”

And sure enough, Gianna’s whole expression lit up, renewed. She gasped, hands flying up to cover her mouth in an exaggerated gesture. Seems like he got himself a drama queen.

“We’re gonna watch Mum?!” she asked, full of hope.

Simon nodded, trying to maintain a serious expression but always failing because of her antics. “As long as you behave an’ eat breakfast.”

The five-year-old was cheering, jumping, and doing her little dances in unbridled energy—just like her mum. He guessed it was true what Garrick said that day the lads visited the two of you at the hospital after Gianna was born—“She’s a perfect blend of the both of you.”

“Pancakes! I want pancakes!” Gianna squeals, scampering to the cabinet where the flour is stored. “Come on, Daddy! Let's eat breakfast so we can go an' watch Mummy!"

When the evening draws near, Gianna is already in the bathroom. Lately, she's been insisting on bathing herself, saying she's a “big girl” now. But he guessed it's more because she wants to play with her Barbie doll in the water, using up all the soap in the process.

“Don't take too long, alright? We've gotta be out the door by five.” He says.

"Okay!" Gianna chirps back, not really listening to him, too busy splashing around and chatting to her plastic friend.

Keeping the door open to ensure her safety, Simon stepped out to attend to his own tasks. Seems like it was yesterday when she was just a little baby, lying in the bath support, her tiny legs kicking every time you would rinse the soap off her soft skin. Time indeed flies so fast; one moment, she is just a baby who struggles to stand on her wobbly legs, and the next, she insists on doing everything independently.

Simon let out a heavy sigh, turning to your shared bedroom to pull on a fresh button up. As he’s closing the dresser drawer, the sound of his phone ringing caught his attention. He read the caller ID before accepting it and lifting it to his ear.

“’Ello?”

“Hey, are you on your way yet?” Your familiar voice comes through the line.

Glancing over to the half-open bathroom door, where he could hear the faint sounds of Gianna splashing and talking to herself, he then said, “The kid's in the bath.”

“Okay, okay,” You said, he could hear some shifting on the other side. “Make sure you bring her coat—the brown one. It's so cold today, I don't want her to get—”

“I got it, love.” He cuts you off gently, assuring you easily. “Just focus on yer ballet. I'll make sure she's all bundled up, alright?”

A chuckle from you—one that brought a smile to his own lips. Always the overthinker, his wife. He walked over to grab Gianna's towel and placed it atop a small chair near the bathtub, then held up five fingers, communicating the remaining time she had left before she had to get out.

“I’m on a break right now,” you tell him, voice soft, whispering. “I… I miss you, and Gianna too.”

He can’t help the smile spreading at that. “That so?”

“Yes,” you admit, he imagines you clutching the phone tightly against your ear like he’s seen you do so often. “Being here, rehearsing for the show, you two are all I can think about. I want to get this over with and go home.”

“Think she misses you too,” he murmurs.

“Really?”

“Yeah, she's been jumpin’ about when I mentioned we're gonna watch you.”

“That’s nice,” he could hear the smile in your voice. Then, a small pause between you before you asked again, “Um, do you… Do you miss me too?”

A low, amused chuckle escaped him at your shy question, and he compares it to a schoolgirl trying to gauge her chances with her crush. This is your husband you are talking to. He couldn't help but find the conversation amusing—and yet, he couldn't deny the warmth that rose to color his cheeks.

“What you actin’ all shy an’ coy for, eh?” he teased, “We’ve been married for seven bloody years now, ain’t we? Course I miss you, sweetheart.”

Simon could hear you take a deep breath. “Well, I just… Well, you just got home from deployment, and we haven't really had time together before I got to do rehearsals, so I feel kind of…”

“Ah, I see,” Simon murmurs, voice dropping to a low, rumbling tone. He glanced to the bathroom to make sure Gianna was still out of earshot before continuing, “Feelin' a bit starved for attention, are we, love? Maybe we should call up Johnny, see if 'e can come 'n babysit the mite for a night. Give us a chance to… reconnect, eh?”

You suck in a sharp breath at his words, heat rising to your cheeks and somewhere else from his implication. For a moment, you are silent; another minute passes, and Simon almost thinks the call has been cut off until your soft, discreet whisper finally cuts through.

“… Do you think the phone company records calls like this?”

At that, he laughed. “Why? You plannin' on sayin' somethin' naughty?”

“No! No, not at all!” You stammered; he can almost feel your embarrassment through the phone. “I-I was just… curious, that's all.”

It was amusing. How easily he could make you all worked up and flustered, even after nearly ten years of being together—dating, marriage, and even a kid thrown in the mix. He heard you take another deep breath, trying to regain your composure.

“Don't forget the special pass, okay? They won't let you in the theater without it.” You reminded him.

“I’ll find another way in if I ‘ave to.”

“Simon, I'm serious,” you say, voice firm. “You can't just sneak in. They'll never let you—"

You pause for a moment; Simon assumes you're focused on whatever's going on in the background. He catches the sound of a voice calling your name, saying something about returning to the stage. Then, you sigh into the phone.

“I gotta go. Stage check,” you explain, almost apologetically. “But don't forget the coat and the pass, okay? I need you there, Simon. Both of you.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Love ya. See you soon.”

“I love you too.”

With that, Simon ended the call. He pivoted back to the bathroom; the gentle sound of splashing water reached his ears. “Alright, darlin’, time's up," he called out. "Let's get you dried off an' ready to go.”

“Okay!”

A short while later, the two Rileys found themselves inside Gianna's pistachio-colored room—the little girl still wrapped up in her towel like a burrito—both standing in front of the dresser. The sound of her damp feet tapping the floor filled the air as Simon swept his eyes over the colorful options in the closet.

“Alright, then,” he said, looking down at her. “What do you want to wear today?”

Gianna scrunches up her face in deep concentration, brows furrowed, lips pouting in consideration before finally pointing to a rather… mismatched combo of clothes. A bright pink tutu, a neon green t-shirt, and a pair of polka-dot stockings.

“That one!” she declared, looking up at him with a proud grin.

Wrinkles formed on his forehead as Simon gave a look of disapproval. "That?" He questions, tone laced with doubt. “You sure about that? I don't think that's gonna look very good.”

Gianna’s smile faltered, and Simon immediately felt a pang of guilt in his chest. Bloody hell. Clearing his throat, he quickly backtracked. “I mean, it’s a bit… unique, isn’t it?” he said, trying to sound more encouraging—as if he hadn't just said it would look ugly. “But if that’s what you wanna wear, then tha’s what we’ll do.”

“Yay!” she squeals, bouncing, clapping her hands as her lips stretch into a toothy grin.

Reaching into the dresser, he pulls out the bright pink tutu, the neon green t-shirt, and the polka-dot stockings and lays them on her bed.

“You can do it by yourself, right?”

Gianna nods eagerly. “Yep!” she chirps, already reaching for the shirt.

“Alright, then. Daddy’ll be waitin’ downstairs, a’ight?”

“Okay!”

With one last glance, he turns and heads out of her room, making his way downstairs to ensure he has all the important things. Wipes, tissues, a few snacks, and a spare set of clothes just in case. He shoved it all into the bag that you usually bring whenever you're out with Gianna.

Zipping the bag, he then reached into his jeans pocket to feel for his wallet. He takes it out, flicks it open, and verifies that the special pass is safely tucked inside. His gaze drifts to the brown coat you had specified, draped over the arms of the couch—another item checked off his mental list.

Glancing up at the grandfather clock, he lets out a soft curse under his breath. Shouldering the bag and grabbing the coat, he walks into the living room and calls out Gianna’s name.

The car ride is a bit of a quiet affair, save for the sound of raindrops pattering against the windscreen. Simon glances at the rearview mirror, catching a glimpse of Gianna in her car seat. She’s kicking her legs back and forth, a slightly bored expression on her face as she stares out the window—at least she’s not uncomfortable. He turns his attention back to the road.

The red light turned green; the car engine hummed as Simon accelerated. Suddenly, a small voice came from the backseat.

“Daddy, I want my song,” Gianna said.

Not understanding what she meant, Simon furrows his brows, shooting a puzzled glance at her reflection in the mirror. “Your song?” he asks, confused. “What song’s that, then?"

A dramatic sigh escapes her. The girl rolls her eyes in a way that is almost comically exaggerated for a five-year-old. “My song!” she exclaims, as if it were common knowledge. “The wheels on the bus, Daddy! The wheels on the bus go round and round!”

“Right, right,” he said, one finger reaching out to fiddle with nearly every button on the radio. “The wheels on the bus. Should’ve known that, shouldn’t I?”

Soon enough, the radio sprung to life, starting the tune of her favorite song. Gianna’s face lit up, and she began happily singing along. The wheels on the bus go round and round, round and round… Bloody hell, this is worse than the songs you'd had on repeat for a week. But he held his tongue from protesting, observing his little princess doing her small dance instead.

The torture was cut short when the car came to a stop at their destination. The grand neoclassical building of the Metropolitan Opera loomed before them, its mighty and majestic pillars illuminated by the lights. He closed the door, rounding the vehicle to get to Gianna’s side.

Reaching in, he unbuckled the car seat, the girl waiting patiently as he did so.

“Are we gonna see Mum?” she asked, brown eyes sparkling with anticipation.

“Soon, princess.”

Gently, Simon pulled her out of the car seat, setting her down on the ground. Locking the car, he took her tiny hand in his before the two of them made their way to the entrance, where a steady stream of well-dressed onlookers was beginning to file into the building.

Panic began to kick in when Gianna’s tiny hand slipped from his. Before he could protest, however, she pointed in a direction. “Look! That’s Mum!”

Following where her little finger pointed, his brown eyes landed on the large billboard on the side of the opera house. There, illuminated by the warm glow of a spotlight, was you, posed elegantly in your ballet attire, with the bold letters of “The Nutcracker” plastered above you. He couldn’t help the proud smile from tugging at the corners of his lips.

The sound of Gianna's hurried footsteps pulled him back to the present, her small form already darting towards the huge display. Quickly, he pulled out his updated mobile (the only reason he bought it was so he could take pictures of you and Gianna) and snapped a quick picture of his daughter standing next to the billboard.

Slipping the phone back into his pocket, he then strides over to Gianna. “C’mon, don’t wanna be late for Mum, do we?” he says, reaching down to scoop her into his arms. Simon tucks Gianna’s head under his chin.

Fishing out the special pass out of his wallet, he hands it to the person in charge of ticketing. They wave him through, and he steps into the foyer. Footsteps and chatter echo around him as he climbs the steps and through the towering doors of the grand opera hall.

After finding their seats, Simon leaned back comfortably in the velvet chair. But Gianna? The girl sat on the edge of her seat, her blonde head turning from side to side as she took in the sights of people filling their designated spots. She darted her eyes from one end of the room to the other, like she was searching for something—or rather, someone.

“Where’s Mum?” She asked, turning to him with a slight frown.

Simon was still leaning back in his chair. “She’ll be out soon, love,” he assured her.

“When?” she pressed, growing impatient.

Reaching over, he gently pinched her chubby cheek, eliciting a small giggle from Gianna. “Soon, princess,” he repeated, this time really hoping it will soothe her little heart. “Just sit back and relax, alright?”

“Okay, but are we gonna watch Mummy?”

“’Course, that’s why we’re here, right?”

Finally convinced, Gianna leans back, her tiny body relaxing as the lights begin to dim. The orchestra conductor ascends the podium, lifting his baton high. Gradually, the music comes to life. Simon glances over at Gianna to find her swaying her head to the melodies.

“Look, Daddy! Snow!” she exclaims, pointing at the delicate flakes of ‘snow’ falling as the opening scene of the Nutcracker unfolds.

It was easy enough to make Gianna enamored. She was mesmerized by the ‘snow’ coming down from above, letting out a soft gasp of awe when she saw the towering Christmas tree on stage. When the audience applauded, she joined in excitedly, trying to clap even louder.

But nothing, nothing compares to the moment she spots her mum.

The second you glide onto the stage, Gianna lets out a loud gasp, launching off the chair. She glues her gaze to your every step, jaw hanging open as her eyes radiate pure adoration. With her tiny index finger pointed, she jumps up and down.

“That’s Mummy, Daddy! That’s Mummy!”

His heart had never been this full. He chuckled, reaching out to gently tug her back down into her seat. “Aye, that's her, love.” He said, following where she pointed, to his wife.

“Tha’s Mummy, Daddy! Woah, woah! She’s so pretty!”

And she’s right—you’re absolutely enchanting, every movement imbued with elegance and poise. The fluid extension of your legs, the exquisite way the spotlight caresses your form. He watches you dance with your co-star in perfect synchronization, flawlessly executing those ballerina moves he can never recall the names of but loves all the same.

“She’s the best, Daddy! Look at ‘er go! Woaahh!”

“Aye, bloody brilliant, she is.”

Gianna nods in agreement. “Yeah, bloody brilliant!”

Simon snorts when she steals his lines, echoing like a loyal follower. As you continue your performance, Gianna’s oohs and awws fill the air around them. She makes little cheers, more praises, more clapping. “Didja see that jump?!” here, “She’s sooo pretty!” there.

Miraculously, Gianna still had a tank of energy even after the show was over. The second the girl saw you, she ran over and threw her arms around you. You quickly leaned down, sweeping Gianna into your arms. She giggled as you peppered her cheeks, nose, and forehead with kisses.

“Here’s my pretty girl!” you said, giving her chubby cheeks another peck.

Swelling with pride, Simon smiled at the sight of his two favorite people together. Walking over to his girls, he held out the bouquet of flowers he had just taken from the trunk of his car, offering them to you.

“Well done, love.”

You accept the flowers as Simon takes Gianna from you. “Oh, babe, they’re beautiful.” You breathe, lips curving into a radiant smile.

Without a second thought, you rise onto your tiptoes, bridging the height difference between you, before pressing your lips to his in a slow, prolonged kiss. Gianna makes a disgusted sound—Simon can feel the corners of your mouth curving into a smile. You can feel the warmth of his body as he pulls you close; the familiar scent of his cologne and something of him intoxicating you.

But the moment is interrupted when Gianna tugs on Simon's cheek.

“That’s gross, Daddy! Get off Mum!”

Simon pressed one last, gentle kiss to your lips before pulling away completely. “She’s my wife too, kid.” He reminded his daughter.

You giggle at Gianna's reaction. Reaching up, you cup Simon's stubbled jaw, your thumb gently caressing the short, prickly hair over his chin. Then, turning back to your pouting daughter, you lean closer to place a soft, affectionate kiss upon her cheek.

“I need to go change, and then we can all go home, okay?”

Soon enough, the three of you were in the car, with the soft hum of the engine and the faint sound of “The Wheels on the Bus” playing on the radio. In the back seat, Gianna was still full of energy, even more enthusiastic after the ballet show.

As Simon makes another turn, Gianna suddenly pipes up. “I want to be like Mummy when I grow up!” she declared.

You twist your body in the passenger seat to face her. “Really? You wanna be a ballerina like me?”

Watching Gianna in the rearview mirror, Simon joined in the conversation with his question. “Yeah? What happened to wanting to be a soldier?”

It's not like he would actually allow her if it ended up being more than a silly childhood dream. The mere idea of Gianna putting herself in danger, surrounded by self-entitled men in their star-encrusted uniforms, facing the same horrors he had seen, filled his stomach with unease. If any of her aspirations were to see fruition, he would much rather she shine in the spotlight, where she could display her poise and elegance, just like you.

But Gianna took her time in answering, as if she was considering it carefully. “‘Course I want that too! I'll just be a ballerina an’ a soldier!”

Both you and Simon laughed at that. Always gotta have it all, your little girl.

[kitnjon]

dark jon fics recommendations?

1. Beasts of Seasons by simonetta

She had prepared her words and her actions meticulously. She hadn’t prepared to actually see him. Or, Jon and Sansa reunite and things don't go according to plan, forcing Sansa to reevaluate her identity and her loyalties and forcing Jon to come back to himself. Post-ADWD, bookverse fic. Jon and Sansa reunite on campaign to win back Winterfell.

2. The Difference by @asilentfrenzy

“I was not the one to strangle your brother or burn your grandfather.” “The North sees no difference.” Sansa’s glassy eyes focused and trained directly on Aemon's, her gaze becoming fiery with an intensity that threw him off before her tone dropped in temperature. “The Starks see no difference." The implication was clear and quite intentional, and the blow was all the harder in the knowledge that she took the risk to make it despite how fearful of him she was.

3. deathless by @kingsansa

“The men I came here with,” He began, “The ones my family chooses to associate with—they aren’t my friends. And they’re nobody you would want to know. They’re callous and greedy. They aren’t good people. If they see something or someone that belongs to someone who they perceive as their better, they’ll want it. They’ll do anything to take it. They can’t help themselves.” His skin was rough, but his touch on the underside of her jaw was velvet. His fingertips were cold. She told herself that that was why she was shuddering. “Do you understand?” He asked. She didn’t. She was tired and tipsy and confused and frustrated— She was starving in a way she never had before, for something that she couldn’t understand. “But I don’t belong to you,” She said, uncertain and shaky; a doe on new legs. “No,” He said. “You don’t.” And she wondered if she imagined it, the way his chin ducked, a nod of appeasement, as if to say: Not yet.

4.Cute But a Psycho by @amymel86

Sansa is hung over on the morning her husband's severed hands are delivered to her doorstep.

5. hiraeth by @kingsansa

“You’ll permit me.” He murmured. It was not a question. But for reasons she could not understand, she knew she would. He ran his fingers over her cheek. Along her brow. Underneath her chin. He did not venture underneath her veil. He acted as if he did not need to. His touch was warm, almost reverent. When at last, his hand returned to his side, he said, just loud enough for her to hear, “There you are.” Alayne said nothing, but the breath she released was tremulous. Anticipatory. Exhilarated.

6. wolfsong by @kingsansa

She does not close her eyes. She does not sleep. She does not dream. After almost 200 years of running, it is the one place he always manages to find her.

7. Beloved Monster by @amymel86

“An acquaintance of mine can settle all your debts,” the man says, still not looking at Harrold as he makes his offer. Sansa is stunned. Glancing to Harry, she can tell he is too. Her hand absentmindedly reaches up to her neck, tips of her fingers whispering over the bare skin where her mother’s garnet necklace used to sit. Coming out of his momentary stupor, Harry shakes his head. “Sir, I thank you for the offer but my debts are significant and I doubt your acquaintance will-“ “He has the means to cover it all and is happy to do so.” “I-...” her husband scratches at the back of his head. “Repayment will be.... slow. I do not have the means to-“ “Repayments will not be necessary.” Sansa frowns. This is surely some sort of entrapment for her husband. Is he bright enough not to fall for it? Who is this gentleman and who is this acquaintance of his that seemingly wants to throw away his money on a scoundrel like her husband? Harry’s brow furrows. “No repayments? Then what does your friend want in return?” The gentleman’s gaze flicks over Sansa’s form again. “Your wife.”

8. what used to be by @woodswit

the fallout of a marriage of convenience.

9. writer’s block by @woodswit

Writer!Sansa on a deadline for a scene she has no idea how to write, tattooed bartender!Jon. i have nothing else to say for myself.

10. one slip and i am dead by @woodswit

She would rather die than ask Jon, of all people, for help. The history between them is gnarled, knotted, dangerous. But Sansa thinks she knows something about the nuns that keep going missing in Boston, and she knows no one else will believe her.

11. From Instep to Heel by @orangeflavoryawp

“‘I’m a Targaryen,’ he says finally, the words smarting along his tongue, even now. A need and an uncertainty all at once. ‘And she – ’ He stops, swallows. ‘She is nothing,’ he finishes tightly, the untruth a tremulous exhale as it leaves him.” - Jon and Sansa. Like the curve of the horizon, when the moon breaks from beneath its bow.

12. the night we met by @woodswit

They have both left what happened that night—and everything that transpired—in the past, but now Jon's back and he has a request, one Sansa cannot turn down.

13 i fall to pieces (when i'm with you) by usuallysunny

"Go North. Only North. Jon is Lord Commander at the Castle Black. He'll help you." He'd had good intentions, this broken shadow of a man who used to be Theon, and he couldn't have known. Sansa finds a Lord Commander at Castle Black. He has steel-grey eyes, her father's eyes, and a dark beard framing a strong jaw, and he looks and sounds and moves like Jon... But he's not Jon.

14. your halo slipping down by @woodswit

When Arya disappears while hunting Sansa's stalker, Sansa knows she's got to take matters into her own hands. Her first move is to go north-- --to Jon Snow, who has just been released from prison. Jon Snow, the boy in black, is her last hope.

15. A Violence Done Most Kindly by @orangeflavoryawp

“There is an old sort of magic to sacrifice, after all.” - Jon and Sansa. Stark is a house of many winters.

16. when the walls come tumbling down by @phantomphaeton

These violent delights have violent ends. With salt and smoke, fire and blood, iron and ice, the tides of fate wash clean the saviors of the continent. Two years after Daenerys Targaryen and Jon Snow ride south to win the Last War, Westeros is on the verge of destabilization. The Red Wolf—left simmering in fury in the North—is compelled to rejoin the Great Game.

17. Dark! Jon Snow series by @justadram