#this is really pretty i just wish some parts were arranged a little better

[neferaskingdom]

♡ Good Luck Charm | CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

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Summary: If this was just supposed to be Casual, why is he acting like this? Why is he holding her close as if he never plans to let go? [Inspired by Casual by Chappell Roan]

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Part 2 of my Is It Casual Now? series: Masterlist: Part 1

It had started out as a casual thing. A friends-with-benefits arrangement, nothing more. At least, that’s what she told herself at first.

But Charles made it difficult to keep things casual. There was an undeniable charm to him, a sweetness she hadn't anticipated. He didn’t just text her at night or call her when he was back in Monaco. Instead, he called regularly, sometimes even when he was across the world for a race. He’d ask about her day, make her laugh with stories about his travels, and always ended with some version of, “I can’t wait to come home and see you.”

And then, there were the little things he did that went beyond what she’d expected. He’d bring her favorite coffee when they met up, remember small details she’d mentioned in passing, and leave her cute voice messages when he found something that reminded him of her. Charles was effortlessly thoughtful, as if caring for her was second nature.

One evening, after a tough qualifying session, he called her, his voice a mixture of frustration and exhaustion. “You would not believe how bad the setup felt today,” he complained. “It’s like the car just… refused to cooperate.”

She listened as he vented, offering encouragement and making him laugh with a few lighthearted comments. By the end of the call, he sounded calmer, even managing a smile in his voice. “You know, you’re good at this. You make me feel better even from thousands of miles away.”

“Well, someone has to keep you sane,” she teased.

“Oh, you’re doing much more than that,” he replied warmly. “Really, I wish you could be here. You’d probably make the whole race go smoother, just by being around.”

“Is that so?” she teased, her heart swelling at the thought. “And how exactly would I do that?”

“Your mere presence would calm my nerves,” he insisted, the playful lilt in his voice making her laugh. “You know how competitive it gets. If I could just look up and see you, I’d feel so much better.”

“Maybe I’ll have to make an appearance then,” she said lightly, but in her heart, she felt a pang of longing at the thought of being close to him, sharing those moments in person.

As the weeks passed, the calls became a comforting routine. He’d check in after qualifying sessions, asking her opinion on his performance, or he’d call after a disappointing race, needing to vent. It was during those moments that she began to see how much he truly valued her support.

“Do you have any idea how frustrating it is to come in tenth?” he grumbled one afternoon, his voice low and strained as he paced in his hotel room.

“Pretty frustrating, I’d imagine,” she replied sympathetically. “But it’s just one race, right? You’ve got more coming up.”

“Yeah, but it’s Monaco next! I can’t mess that up. It’s my home! The pressure is insane.” He took a deep breath, and she could almost picture him running a hand through his hair in exasperation. “I need to win this one.”

“Then you need to focus and stop overthinking it. You’re talented, Charles. Trust your instincts. You’ve got this,” she reassured him, her voice firm.

“You always know what to say. I can’t wait to come home and see you again.” He sounded lighter, a smile evident in his tone. “Maybe you should come see me race sometime.”

She laughed it off, but Charles was relentless. Every few days, he’d bring up the idea of her coming to watch him race. “Come on,” he’d say, “Just one weekend.”

But she kept brushing it off, always with a half-serious excuse. “Charles, I have a job, remember? I can’t just fly out to some random country you know”

One evening, he finally pulled out his best argument. “Monaco,” he said with a grin she could practically hear over the phone, “that's literally our backyard. No excuses this time.”

She groaned, pretending to resist. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“But charmingly so,” he countered, voice teasing but hopeful.

Eventually, she caved. “Fine. I’ll come. Just because you’ll never let me hear the end of it if I don’t.”

His laugh was practically a shout of victory. “You’re going to love it, I promise. And I’ll make sure you have the best seat in the house.”

When she arrived at the paddock on race day, Charles was waiting for her at the VIP entrance, practically bouncing on his feet. The moment he spotted her, he broke into a grin and quickly made his way over.

“You came!” He wrapped her in a hug, holding her close like he hadn’t seen her in years.

“I told you I’d be here,” she laughed, squeezing him back. “Though you owe me big time for putting up with all this noise and chaos.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I intend to make it up to you,” he replied with a smirk, keeping his arm around her as he led her inside. “Let me show you around.”

Charles walked her through the paddock, his hand resting possessively on her lower back as he guided her past the hustle and bustle of team members, mechanics, and engineers. He introduced her to some of the crew, who greeted her with warm smiles, and she couldn’t help but feel the pride radiating from Charles as he spoke about the work they put into the car.

“See that guy?” he said, pointing to a tall man with a headset who was deeply focused on the monitor. “That’s my race engineer. He’s the one who helps guide me during the race.”

She nodded, genuinely interested as Charles continued to explain the intricacies of the race preparations. “And this,” he said, leading her to the Ferrari garage, “is where all the magic happens.”

As they entered at the Ferrari garage, Charles spotted his brother Arthur nearby. “Ah, you have to meet Arthur,” he said, giving her a reassuring smile. “You’ll love him.”

Arthur approached, giving her a friendly grin as he shook her hand. “So, you’re the ‘lucky charm’ Charles keeps talking about,” he said, raising an eyebrow at his brother.

“Don’t start,” Charles muttered, clearly embarrassed, though he didn’t let go of her hand.

“Nice to meet you, Arthur,” she replied, feeling her cheeks heat up as she shot Charles a playful look. “I didn’t realize I had such a reputation around here.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Arthur chuckled, giving his brother a knowing look. Charles just rolled his eyes and nudged him away, muttering something about “family being an embarrassment.”

Before long, Charles was called back for his final preparations, and he turned to her, his expression softening. “You’ll be watching, right?”

“Front row seat,” she promised, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.

The race itself was a whirlwind of emotions. As the lights went out and the cars roared to life, she felt her heart racing in tandem with the engines. Each lap was a rollercoaster of tension and excitement, and she couldn’t tear her eyes away from Charles. He navigated the track with grace and determination, every move calculated, every turn precise.

With each passing lap, the anticipation built, and when he crossed the finish line in first place, she couldn’t help but scream with joy. The entire atmosphere erupted in cheers, but for her, it was all about Charles. He’d done it. He’d won!

As he climbed out of the car, sweat glistening on his forehead, he scanned the crowd until his eyes locked onto hers. A wide smile broke across his face, and he hurried over, not caring about the cameras or the noise.

“Did you see that? I did it!” he shouted, wrapping her in a tight hug that lifted her off the ground. She could hardly believe it as he peppered her face with kisses, excitement spilling over. “You’re my good luck charm!”

“I think you had it in you all along!” she laughed, overwhelmed by the joy radiating from him.

“Not without you here,” he insisted, his eyes sparkling with delight. “I couldn’t have done it without you. You make everything better.”

She laughed, still wrapped in his arms, as he planted quick, enthusiastic kisses all over her face. “Charles, everyone’s watching!”

“Let them watch,” he said, not even caring, still grinning as he peppered her face with kisses.

The celebration was in full swing when they stepped into the club, Charles was surrounded by friends, team members, and fans who were all there to revel in his long-awaited Monaco victory. The energy was infectious, and she couldn’t help but feel a rush of pride watching him receive endless pats on the back, his grin wide and eyes gleaming under the flashing lights. He never let her stray far from his side, keeping a steady arm around her waist as they moved through the crowd.

"Finally won my home race," he said, leaning close so she could hear him over the music, his voice filled with disbelief and joy. "It still doesn’t feel real."

She nudged him lightly, a teasing smile on her lips. "You sure it happened? You’re not dreaming right now?"

"Guess I’ll find out if I wake up," he said, laughing as he twirled her in place, pulling her back against his chest. "But you’re here, so I’d say this has to be real."

They both laughed, the shared warmth and excitement washing over them like a wave. He kept her close as they moved through the club, accepting congratulations and raising toasts with anyone who approached. But every few minutes, his hand would slide back to hers, squeezing her fingers or pulling her back to his side. His eyes would find hers, that familiar spark of mischief dancing in his gaze.

Eventually, they found themselves tucked into a quieter corner of the club, away from the crowd. Charles leaned against the wall, tugging her closer until her hands rested on his chest, his grin turning cheeky as he looked down at her.

“So, you’re not disappearing on me tonight, are you?” he teased, his fingers tracing a lazy line up her arm. “I kind of like having you around.”

“Disappearing?” she laughed. “Please, Leclerc, it’s like I’m glued to you tonight. You’ve barely let go of my hand.”

He smirked, his hands slipping down to her waist as he pulled her even closer. "Can you blame me? Best night of my life, and I want you right here."

The sincerity in his voice softened her, but he quickly masked it with a grin, tugging her back onto the dance floor. They spent hours laughing, dancing, and talking between sips of champagne, the atmosphere around them filled with lighthearted banter. Charles was in his element, his joy contagious as he celebrated with everyone around him, but his attention kept circling back to her—small glances, soft touches, lingering smiles.

At one point, he leaned in, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered, "Come with me."

Before she could respond, he was guiding her toward a secluded corridor at the back of the club, pressing her gently against the wall. His hands settled on her waist as he looked down at her, his gaze intense and filled with an energy that set her pulse racing. He leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss that was equal parts heated and sweet, his fingers tracing her sides as he held her close.

When he finally pulled back, he pressed his forehead against hers, his voice a low murmur. "Thank you for being here tonight. Wouldn’t have wanted to celebrate with anyone else."

The words made her chest tighten, and before she could respond, he was kissing her again, a soft laugh escaping his lips as they stayed wrapped up in each other, oblivious to the world outside their small bubble.

Later, as the night wound down, they left the club together, Charles’ hand never leaving hers. Back at his apartment, he pulled her inside, his smile turning playful again. "One more toast, maybe?"

“Isn’t that what you said after the last toast?” she teased, following him into the kitchen as he poured them each a final glass of champagne.

“What can I say? It’s a big night,” he said, winking. They clinked glasses, his eyes never leaving hers as they sipped, and when she set her glass down, he was already pulling her close, his lips brushing along her jawline before settling on her lips.

They drifted into his bedroom, Charles’ touches growing more insistent as he held her close, a mix of laughter and whispered words filling the space between them. He was relentless, the intensity of the night fueling each kiss, each lingering touch as they stayed wrapped up in each other.

Finally, as the early hours of morning crept in, they lay tangled together in his bed, the celebrations fading into a comfortable quiet. Charles lay beside her, his face nestled against her neck as his breathing slowed, a soft smile on his face.

“Perfect night,” he mumbled, his voice heavy with exhaustion.

She smiled, her fingers running through his hair as she whispered, “Yeah, it was.”

In the quiet that followed, she felt his breathing even out, his arm around her tightening slightly as he drifted off to sleep, holding her close as if he never planned to let go.

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Taglist: @dullypully @wintterily @sageskiesf1 @firefirevampire @eloriis

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[the-bad-taste-aquarium]

The Dragon Gave a Loud Scream ~In Holy Night~  |  Christmas NiGHTS Into Dreams...  |  Tomoko Sasaki, Naofumi Hataya, Fumie Kumatani

[nezuscribe]

𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: you find yourself in a marriage that you never wanted in the first place. your husband seems to hate you and you begin to wonder if anything you used to think of him was even true. who would have though a marriage to gojo satoru would be so difficult?

warnings: 18+ mdni, arranged marriage, misunderstandings and just not talking shit out, mentions of cheating, slight angst (with comfort), eating out (fem! receiving), fingering, gojo doesn't really know how to husband for some of it

word count: 10.9K (whoops)

note: part two is up! i really had a lot of fun writing this so reblogs and comments are always appreciated! as always, thank you to @jadeisthirsting for beta reading <3

jjk masterlist

never did you think that you’d be stuck in a marriage to a man who didn’t love you, but there’s a first for everything. 

you should count yourself lucky that he’s not old and bald. he’s pretty. in fact, he’s the prettiest man you’ve ever seen. his eyes are the bluest, bluer than the sky. his hair mirrors the winter snows, and his back ripples with muscles whenever he fights. 

his agility is unlike any other man. he fights swiftly and cleanly, never taking more than a couple minutes to get rid of whatever it was that stood in his way. he’s charming with his words (or so you’ve heard), and he knows how to make somebody swoon if he really wants them to. 

and he seems to despise you.

you had known gojo since you were a child, the two of you running around each other's fields as you chased him with your wooden sword. you remembered watching him in training, wishing him good luck whenever he went on a hunt. you could even remember how he would stutter whenever he tried to talk, something he must have worked on because he never seemed to stutter anymore. 

he was always nice to you, his cheeks rosy whenever you kissed him goodbye. he was kind back then, grinning brightly whenever he saw you. 

but as time grew and you with it, and it was only a matter of years before the two of you went your separate ways. it didn’t help that once he turned thirteen he had to leave for training and fighting in whatever it was that was needed of him, but you had hoped that he would be able to write back. 

you would send him letters whenever you could, it was tradition whenever the two of you were separated for too long to do so. each letter telling him about new experiences and embarrassing things that happened in your life, but he never responded. you liked to send one every week, sometimes including little tokens you thought he might enjoy. but you stopped sending them after the first two years and stopped asking about his whereabouts after three. 

but you were hopeful that when you saw him that night so many months ago, he’d be civil with you. you were nervous, sure, but who could blame you? you had recently gotten news that his time to serve his clan was over and that he was finally back home. it wasn’t as though the two of you had left on bad graces, so you were hopeful that he would at least remember you. but he could barely meet your eyes whenever you tried to catch him from across the room, acting as if you had never existed. 

he looked so different since the last time you had seen him. he was taller than most of the people in the room, his white hair just as bright as it used to be. he had gained muscle mass almost everywhere, and you felt yourself wondering just how much training he had to go through to look this way. you could see him talking to a girl, a smile on his face as he tilted his head to look at her better. you gave him some time to socialize, not wanting to intrude on anything. 

after an hour you decided that it was long enough, and tried to weave your way through the crowd to get to him. you had tried to call out to him, waving to him despite your mother quickly shoving your hand down, saying how improper it was. he heard you and you knew that he was purposely ignoring you, so you began to feel heavy-hearted after a couple of attempts at trying to catch his attention, eventually giving up. 

and now, despite you wanting to, you can’t even blame him for hating you. 

ever since your mother caught you, alone with him, a man you hadn’t seen in so long, she had swiftly and promptly proposed the idea of marriage only a few days later. it was really to save face for the two families, but it helped that this marriage would unify the two clans. 

you were sure he had ladies lined up to marry him, and you weren’t somebody he was actively trying to pursue. you didn’t even know if he was in love with somebody else if he shared a connection with a girl who was surely not you and cursed you for taking that away from him. 

not that it mattered now. 

all you wanted was to reconcile, to catch up on all the things happening in your lives. you wanted to hear all the stories he must have racked up over the years, not for this to happen. all the things he wanted for himself were ripped away because of one night from one simple act of kindness, and so you couldn’t find it in yourself to hate him for the way he acted.

you rarely come down for dinner whenever he’s there, but when you do, you feel those eyes turn icy, tracking your every movement till you sit down opposite of him. he doesn’t say much, just mutters a quiet “good evening” and you’re sure he’s only doing it so the maids don’t start to gossip. 

whenever your hand brushes his you feel him snap back, flexing his hand as though your touch burned him. he rarely came by to ask you about how you felt, and so you stopped trying to act kindly towards him if he didn’t want anything to do with it.

any semblance of romance you had dreamed of as a young girl quickly dissipated when you realized your husband wanted nothing to do with you, so you didn’t try to pursue any sort of love, deciding it’d be easier if he just did his part and you did yours so the two clans wouldn’t worry. 

he was always gone, which might be the best for the two of you. when he’s not training new men then he’s gone in a hunt. if he’s not in a hunt then he’s somewhere in his endless home, hiding away. 

you don’t know if he does this for him, for your sake, or for everybody else. 

“did you see your husband this morning?” one of your maids said excitedly as she tugged the undergarments over your raised arm, a gleeful smile on her face as she rambled about something gojo had done. you couldn’t help but return a smile of your own, although it didn’t quite meet your eyes. 

“yes, briefly. he’s busy with having to worry about the feast,” which wasn’t a total lie. you’d seen him hurriedly brush past you, quickly glancing at you as if he had forgotten you were his wife. you felt your chest tighten up with the way he glanced at your hand, and then quickly left. 

it was only a few nights away and you knew that it was the only buzz of news anybody seemed to talk about. unfortunately, for you, it meant having to socialize with other clans. you were fine with that aspect, you’d been doing it since you were young, but this time they had a right to be nosey. you knew there would be endless questions asked about the honeymoon stage of your marriage, to which you had no answer. 

sure, you’d been making up answers to hypothetical questions, but you didn’t know what gojo would be answering with, so you were only praying some of your responses would line up. 

for a night the two of you would have to pretend to be husband and wife, and while the people around you knew you were anything, you knew you had to commit to the role for the sake of you and your family’s dignity. 

but all this worrying isn’t good for your head, you could already feel the pang as you squeezed your eyes to try and get rid of it. you tried to move on from your worries, going to comment on her necklace, it seemed new, but a knock interrupted you. the two of your heads popped up, looking at where the sound came from. 

“come in!” you called out, buttoning up the last bits of your top as you thanked myra. she nodded, bowing as she went to open the door. you could hear her faint footsteps, not bothering to look up as she greeted the person behind. you guessed it was franchesca coming with the fabric samples. 

“sir,” you heard myra say, and your head swirled around, only to see the topic of your conversation make his way into your room, excusing your maid with a swift motion of his hand. she glanced once at you and then to him, ducking her head as she left, closing the door behind her as she left you two alone. 

you felt heat prickle at the back of your neck as he looked at you and then to your room. the two of you slept separately, as per your request the first night. you couldn’t bear the agonizing silence between the two of you, and he obliged. 

he was dressed for sparring. he had a loose-fitting tunic on, and pants that would allow him to move freely and without constraint. it was in moments like these that you were reminded of the fact that gojo was the strongest warrior that any of the clans had seen, that the child who once splurged on sugar in his tea was capable (and has done so before) of taking down entire armies. 

he had matured so much since what you last remembered from him. he no longer acted rashly nor spoke without thinking about what it was he wanted to say. but you still saw him eating sweets with the same fervor he did as a kid, and it never failed to make you smile, hiding it behind your hand so nobody could hear your quiet giggle. 

it had been a while since it was just the two of you, alone, and all you could think about was that night. your cheeks heated up just thinking about it, and it seemed that gojo could tell your discomfort with the way he cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair as he began to speak. 

“good morning,” he started, his eyes darting around, never setting on yours. it was funny if it didn’t cause your heart to hurt irrevocably, at how the strongest warrior in all the land could barely look at his wife. 

if only you knew.

“good morning.” you offered him a quick, disingenuous smile, moving around until you found your vanity, rummaging through your laid-out earrings as you kept your back to him, not trusting your face to give you away if you were to look at him for too long. 

you heard him take in an audible breath, but he continued whatever it was he wanted to say. 

“with the feast coming up, i want to clear some things with you,” you turned around, looping the earrings in as you nodded for him to continue. it was such a shame he was so stunning, effortlessly attractive as the sun caught off his cheekbones, bouncing off of his chest. he rested his hand on the hilt of his sword, and you wondered if being here was just as painfully awkward for him as it was for you. 

“we should act like we’re…” he trailed off and you felt yourself itching to leave, knowing what he meant without having to say it. 

“in love?” you finished and he slowly nodded, gnawing on his lip as you brushed past him, going to find the mirror so you could adjust your jewelry. you could see him fidgeting in the corner, and for once you could see a hint of nervousness and unease on his features. 

and a part of you hurt. you would never admit out loud that you harbored a crush on him for as long as you could remember. it hurt knowing that you acting like you were in love was perhaps the lost genuine form of love you could show. 

“what if they ask about the night we met?” you ask after a couple of seconds, looking up from what you were doing. deep down, you knew somebody was bound to ask. even if it was just your mother who had caught the two of you alone in that garden, the news of it somehow spread (she was always one to talk). 

he scratches his head, shrugging as he eventually settles on an idea.

“just tell them the truth.” 

the truth. 

tell them how he followed you after you had run outside, sick to your stomach after a man, who was as old as your father, had introduced himself as a possible suitor. how gojo, the most ruthless warrior in all the land, had carefully put his hands on your back as you retched, offering you a towel he had fetched from inside to clean yourself up. 

tell them how you hadn’t seen him in years but the first thing you had done was to hug him tightly. how his hands wrapped around your back as though they were the only things keeping you afloat. perhaps they were. 

tell them how he murmured words in your hair to bring you back to reality, his thumb running up and down your arms to calm you down. how it seemed like even though it had been years since you two last saw each other, it felt so right, so normal, to be back in his arms. 

tell them how he had looked at you with such worry, such care, unlike anybody else had looked at you, and you for once felt safe in somebody’s arms. 

tell them how your mother found you two in such a compromising position, with your head nestled in his chest as he tried his very best to soothe your cries. it was humiliating and embarrassing to be caught with a man you had only seen back in your teenage years, and especially so in such a vulnerable position. 

you shake your head, scoffing at the idea, “i’ll just come up with something,” was your answer and he nods along, realizing how the story would be too private to share with people you barely knew.

“and we need a reason for why,” he cleared his throat once again, pink dusting on his cheeks as his eyes dropped to your stomach. your eyes met his in the mirror, and one of your eyebrows raised, “well, you’re not exactly looking like you’re carrying a child at the moment.” 

you quickly looked away, the tension in the room increasing as you moved away from the mirror, doing anything you could to keep your hands occupied. you flushed at the comment, your throat drying up as you glanced at your stomach.

the two of you have barely touched, much less been intimate with each other. you were glad he hadn’t forced the idea onto you, instead, leaving it to you to bring up the topic. you only talked about it, once, the night of the marriage, and then never again. you knew that it would have to happen eventually, but you couldn’t do it right now, not with your state of mind. 

you scrambled to say something. in all honesty, you had been dreading this question. you hadn’t been answering any of the letters your mother sent, and you knew people were expecting to hear the news of a pregnancy. 

“we’ll just say we’ve been so busy and preoccupied with the politics of marriage that we couldn’t… consummate.” you offered and he just shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose as if this was the biggest inconvenience to him. 

you knew that this marriage was brought upon quickly and before either of you could object to it, but at least you tried to hide it away. if only he hadn’t acted so rashly that night, his hands on your shoulders, eyes bewildered as they racked over your figure. if only he had been more careful, or you were smarter in picking some place to be more concealed, you wouldn’t be put in this position. 

but neither of you was thinking ahead, and here you were. but he was certainly making sure that you knew of his contempt for this arrangement far more than you were. it was irritating, it scratched at your skin and ate away at your mind the more you saw each other.

“look,” he couldn’t take his eyes off of you, off of the way you were fiddling with the ring he had delicately placed on your hand so many weeks ago, “i can come up with whatever they ask, so just try your best to do the same.” you say, your voice tinged with anger, the ring on your finger acting as an anchor to the depths of the sea with the way it weighed down your movements, feeling your chest swell as he stayed silent, watching you as you opened the door. 

“i don’t-”

“um, i won’t be joining you for dinner, so don’t wait on me…i apologize, i need to work on some things for the feast…have a good day.” you swiftly murmured, shutting him in your own room as you left, your heart thumping erratically in your chest as you almost ran down the hallway. 

you had no idea how you were going to persuade the masses that this marriage was working if you couldn’t even persuade yourself. 

---

the feast of clans came earlier than you expected. 

you found yourself perched at the end of the table, gojo next to you, your stiff bodies mirroring each other as the people around you joyously helped themselves to the vast variety of food offered. 

you could barely touch the meal in front of you, your stomach churning uncomfortably with the sheer number of people that surrounded you. back home, you hated these feasts, opting to leave after a couple of bites and finish the rest of what you could pocket in your room, but here, as the clan leader's wife, you had no such luxury. 

“are you not hungry?” you looked to your side, gojo staring at your plate and then to you, his eyes squinting as he tried to decipher what you were feeling.

“i can’t eat,” you murmured, playing with your utensils as you swallowed thickly, “i don’t do well in large crowds.” 

he nodded once, looking out into the sea of bodies as he inched a little bit closer to you. he was donned in expensive fabrics, although his hair still messily fell all over. the candle that was lit in front of you had different hues of oranges and reds bouncing off of his pale skin, and if you didn’t know any better, the blush on his nose and cheeks could have been from the frigid winds from outside. 

“i’ll have myra save you a plate,” he said, giving you a curt smile as he went back to eating. 

you were momentarily taken aback by his comment, but tried not to show it, going back to fidgeting with your ring as you looked at the sea of people. nobody had thankfully come up to you and bombarded you with questions, but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t going to eventually happen. 

“thank you,” you say, glancing at him and then back to your plate. 

“anything for my wife,” he replies. it’s only for show, you remind yourself, after all, when was the last time he referred to you as such? 

“gojo,” an old man had walked up to your table, his face lined with wrinkles and a beard, dressed in orange as he offered gojo his hand to shake, “i’m glad to see that you finally settled down.”

gojo blushed deeply, trying to offer him a smile as he motioned to you. 

“it’s hard to resist marriage when such a woman offers it.” he says, and you feel your eyes widen as you try to laugh off his statement. 

“yes,” the old man chuckles, eyeing the two of you. he looked familiar, and you were sure you had seen him around these sorts of gatherings before, “it was only a matter of time before it happened. we all knew just how much you liked her back when you were children.”

the two of you sputtered on your coughs, and you felt a little smile grow on your face as gojo did what he could to usher the man away. 

you could tell with the way he shifted uncomfortably in his seat that gojo wasn’t expecting that, and before you could realize what you were doing you found yourself talking. 

“i’m not a fan of feasts.” you quickly said, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you could stop them. it’s not like you felt you owed him an explanation, but you said it regardless. 

gojo looked up from his plate, grabbing his cup so he could wash down his bite. 

“any feast?” he asked, and you could feel the way the air shifted. he was glad you brought up a different topic. 

“one’s as big as this,” you twisted your ring back and forth on your finger subconsciously, “i get nervous in big crowds.”

“i remember,” a small smile grew on his face as he thought back to when the two of you were children, “you would hide under the tables and force me to come with you.” 

you chuckled, blood rushing to your ears at the fact that he remembered this about you. it was the bare minimum of what you remembered from him, but you had convinced yourself that he had washed every memory of your last selves from his mind. 

a rush of distant memories came to your head; nights spent under the tables, laughing as you two tried to keep your voices down as you tried to dodge the feet. you could still hear his whispers of staying quiet, trying to sneak out so he could smuggle in some pastries for you to eat.

“the adults scared me; they were always loud and insistent on asking personal questions.”

“like they are now?” he replied back, a tilt in his voice as you nodded feverishly. 

“yes!” you covered your mouth with your hand as you let out a laugh, a genuine one as you tried to look as put together as you could, “i swear, it’s even worse than when we were young. just the other day a wet nurse came to me and told me the best positions to get into when giving birth!” it really was a mortifying moment, your eyes darting all around as the old lady even took it upon herself to demonstrate the movements, but gojo didn’t seem to mind, laughing along with you. his eyes twinkled as they took in your giggly state, years since he had last seen you like this. 

“i feel like i should apologize,” he starts, having to cover his own infectious smile as he ducks down his head in shame, “i had her sent up to your chambers.”

your mouth dropped open in shock, lightly smacking his arm as he grinned at the look on your face.

“to mortify me so that i would never leave?” your thumb moves your ring back and forth and gojo watches you as you do it. 

“you seemed sick at breakfast, but i guess she thought it was a different sort of sickness.” gojo tells you as he cuts off some of his meat, not knowing just how much his words affected you. 

you had forgotten how simple and easy conversations were with gojo. although this was under a guise to fool people, you felt at ease with him, as if you didn’t have to be on guard with your emotions when he was around. 

“do you still want to hide under the table now?” he asked a couple of seconds later, chewing on a potato as you shrugged, looking around before your lips grew into an apologetic smile. 

“…yes,” you admitted bashfully and he smiled at your honest response. 

“if you want to hide, i’ll-”

“satoru!” a booming voice interrupted your endless spiral of thoughts as the two of you glanced upwards at the sound, “it’s been too long!” 

a man with hair as dark as night and a smile wider than any ocean had come up to your table. he was the first one to do so all night, but gojo didn’t seem bothered by it. he seemed to smile, crescents forming around his eyes as he took his friend's hand.

“too long,” he emphasized with a charming grin, motioning to you and then back to the man in front of you as if he suddenly remembered the two of you and never met, “suguru, this is my wife, y/n. y/n, this is one of my oldest friends.” 

you extended your hand outwards and the man, suguru, took it, placing a soft kiss on the back of it as he shot you a playful smile. he wasn’t at the wedding, but then yet again, it was a rather quick one. the only people who had attended were your families. 

“it’s a pleasure to meet you.” he greeted, and you nodded in agreement, sitting back down next to gojo. you felt his long fingers reach for yours, enveloping your hand in his as your heart sputtered at the touch. 

“likewise,” you answered and the man grinned politely before he slightly tilted his head, looking at the two of you sitting next to each other. 

“he’s not bothering you, is he? i know satoru can be fiendish when he wants to be, so call for me and i’ll take care of him.” he teased and you could only smile tightly and laugh along, gojo’s fingers slightly tightening around yours as he moved your hand to rest on his thigh. 

“i can take care of him when he’s fiendish. i just have to take the sugar away, right?” suguru snorted and gojo glared, but it was playful the way he looked at you. 

his hands were warmer than you would have expected. you could feel the indents of calluses on his fingertips, could feel his thumb moving back and forth on your skin in a calming sort of manner. he didn’t look over at you as he did it, playing it off as second nature. 

“i apologize for not having much time to get to know you, but i have something i need to talk to gojo about. would you mind? it will only take a minute?” he asked, and gojo let go of your hand at the time of his friend's voice. you had to control your urge to roll your eyes, shifting in your seat as you motioned for suguru to talk to your husband, watching as he stood from his seat, leaving with the man as they went somewhere a little more secluded. 

you watched as gojo leaned down to hear whatever it was that suguru was whispering in his ear, pulling back with a frown on his face. he snapped something that only caused suguru to reel back, cast a quick glance at you, and then shake his head in clear annoyance. 

you saw gojo look up, his eyes landing on somebody from across the room, and you followed his stare, only to land on a girl. 

she wore a dark yellow tunic and skirt, colors from a neighboring clan. you hadn’t seen her before, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t known. just one look at the men surrounding her and you could pick up on their lovesick expressions. 

she motioned for gojo to come to her with a bend of her finger, slyly brushing her hair out of her face to make it look as though it was nothing, exiting from the dining area and vanishing into one of the halls. 

you looked down in case either of the men glanced over to see if you were staring. your eyes pierced through the meat on your plate, bile rising up your throat. 

you gave yourself some time, counting up to a minute before you looked back to where suguru and gojo were, finding suguru standing alone. you looked at where the girl was and saw a flash of white hair before it disappeared, your heart sinking as you glanced back at suguru, only to find him looking at you. 

you looked back at your plate, picking up a knife and fork as you stabbed the meat. you couldn’t keep anything down but it’s best to pretend.

---

gojo didn’t return until half an hour later, and you refused to talk to him. 

“did anybody bombast you with questions?” he teased, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. he didn’t seem to pick up on your darkened mood as your fingers dug into your dress. 

“i had a woman ask me if you had disappeared with your mistress, but that was it.” you remarked, silence filling the void between the two of you and you realized that all you had thought of him was crumbling down. 

you didn’t care for your image anymore, giving curt answers to any questions somebody had asked. you could feel his stare on the side of your face but you didn’t humor him in looking over, focusing on your plate instead. 

so what if he was seeing somebody else? you would have been naive to think that he wouldn’t wander. the two of you barely touched each other. 

once all the guests had left over the course of the following days, you did everything you could to steer away from gojo. 

you no longer came down for breakfast or dinner, choosing to eat in your own quarters. if he wanted to have his own secrets, he could do whatever he pleased. 

though you rarely saw suguru after the feast, he did try to talk to you the morning after it took place. he cornered you after you had left from breakfast, his once playful demeanor turned serious as you tried your best to end the conversation. 

“what you saw last night-”

“is none of my business,” you finished, raising your hand as you cut him off, “if gojo has his own private matters to deal with, i’m indifferent to them all.” 

“you know that’s not what it was.” his hand hovered over your arm, careful not to touch you but not wanting you to leave either. 

“i ruined his life, didn’t i?” you tilted your head a bit in questioning. after all, that’s all you could hear from the women who gossiped as they folded the laundry, or behind the hands of the girls who watched you and gojo interact and the mothers who wanted their daughters to be set up with him only sneered at you from across the tables. 

“you…where’d you get that from?” his brows scrunched together in confusion as you scoffed, hoping he couldn’t see the tears welling in the corner of your eyes at the sting of your own words. 

“i can see it on his face. if gojo wants to have his own affairs, he can have them. it’s not like we’re in love. hopefully, i find my own way out so that the two of us look happier and this marriage looks somewhat presentable to the public.” 

you didn’t want to see the look on his face, but you’re sure he reported this all back to gojo because he didn’t look at you once after it. 

you heard from a maid a week later that he was gone for another meeting with a clan, a southern one from what you picked up, and that you should probably go and wish him some luck. 

leading up to the night of his departure you anxiously paced around your room, your feet padding on the floor as your nightgown swished behind you. 

you hadn’t talked to gojo at all that day, and purposefully so. 

it was petty, you know it was, to not want to see him, but a part of you still aches when you look back on that night. at how he didn’t explain where he was even after you asked, at how it was suguru he had sent to fix his dirty work for him. 

“y/n?” a muffled voice came from outside your door. 

your head shot up at the familiar sound, quietly dragging yourself out from your bed as you grabbed the candle, hovering on the other side as you waited for him to say something else. 

“are you awake?” you heard a soft thud from his side, almost as if his head or arm had hit the door. 

you didn’t answer, still, waiting. 

“i’m leaving tomorrow and i wanted to see you before i left.” your heart skipped at his words, careful not to make a sound as you near the door. 

“if you’re sleeping i won’t bother you anymore but if you’re not,” you could hear the old stutter he had coming back, his words meshing together as he tried to regain control, “and you’re choosing to stay quiet, i…” he sighed, his forehead thumping down as he rested it on the door, “i wanted to apologize for the feast. i shouldn’t have left you alone, and if you’d open the door, i would explain why…” he could see the flicker of the candle from underneath the crack, and saw the way it blew away, darkness following suit. 

you walked back to your bed, turning your back to the door as you set the candle down on your table. 

“goodnight,” his voice was quieter than before, and you felt guilty, but pushed the bitter feeling down.

a couple of seconds later you heard him let out a sigh of defeat, his footsteps leading away from your bedroom as you curled into yourself, hoping you would let your heart stop taking control of what your head should be doing. 

---

gojo didn’t return for a while, and you grew more impatient by the day. 

it normally took him and his men a week at maximum, and once two had passed, you felt yourself growing uneasy. 

you tried to act as passive as you could, but even myra could pick up on your growing apprehension. you have never voiced your worries over your husband before, but she knew this wasn’t like any other time. 

when you went to bed, the only thing you could dream about was that night, your brain re-running the images as you tossed and turned. 

“are you alright?” he asked, his hands on your elbows as you could barely speak, your blurry vision impairing your sight. you could only see a mop of white in the darkness, your stomach betraying you as you tried to keep the sick down. 

“i don’t feel too good,” you mumbled, trying to put some distance between the two of you as you pushed him away, only to feel him coming closer as he placed a hand on your forehead and then to your cheeks. 

“you’re burning up,” he muttered under his breath, guiding you gently so that you wouldn’t trip over your feet. 

“i’m sorry, you can go back inside, i don’t want to keep you out here.” you were slurring your words as you tried not to throw up on him. you wiped at your eyes so that you could see him better, only to reel back in utter shock to see the face of your childhood friend frowning down at you. 

your mouth formed in the shape of his name, going to say something else, before you hunched over, feeling his strong hands pat your back and keep the hair out of your face as you felt your world tilt on its axis. 

you ate your dinner at the table, eyeing his empty seat as you tried to shove his last night out of your mind. you shouldn’t feel this way, especially about a man who feels nothing towards you, but your little heart was churning in its confines the more you let yourself think about it.

sitting in the same spot where the feast took place only brought back the venomous taste in your mouth, and so you pretended that you were back home, eating somewhere without the worry of your life weighing you down like a thousand weights on your shoulders. 

myra tried her best to distract you, but she could see the distant look in your eyes, how your voice never seemed too genuine. she began to worry for you, but it seemed like your mind was fixed on one thing. 

until you found yourself pacing around your room, just like you were the night you last heard of him, playing with the ring on your finger as the moon carded through your window. 

“my lady,” you heard myra through the door, her voice shaky and a bit more on edge than usual, “there’s-” but before she could finish it slammed open, revealing the man you’d been biting your nails over, standing in the flesh.

his eyes were a dark blue, squinted as they looked right through you. his chest heaved as he looked like he was trying to catch his breath. you could see the streaks of blood that lined his usually clean clothes, the red that stained his cheeks and jaw. 

he looked feral, and it was throwing you off balance. 

“out.” he snapped at myra, and before you could scold him for his tone she fled, the door shutting roughly behind her. 

the two of you could only stare at each other. you didn’t know what to think after weeks of uselessly worrying over him, not knowing about his well-being, to see him here, in front of you, but looking different than he ever had. 

“are you alright?” 

you could barely get it out, the works sticking on your tongue as you took a tentative step forward, not knowing what to do with his state of being. 

he eyed the blood on his shirt, wiping at his cheeks as if he had forgotten it was there. he didn’t look too dirty, less dirty than one would expect from a five week endeavor through the woods, but he didn’t look too good either. 

“you were awake.” is all he says, his chest still moving up and down as though he couldn’t breathe properly. 

“that night i came by, you were awake. i saw your candle, i heard your footsteps.” he says this as though it’s fighting its way out of his mouth as if it’s all he could think about to tell you. 

“i,” you pretend that you don’t care, shrugging, “i wasn’t up to talk.” 

“you were with suguru.” he snaps, his tone shocking you, and he steps back as if he had shocked himself. he jammed his palms into his eyes, tilting his head upwards before he looked back at you. 

“for five weeks you were all i could think about. i wanted to come back, i wanted to tell you what i felt but we kept running into issues with other tribes and clans.” 

“what could you possibly think about that occupied your mind for five weeks?” you so desperately wanted your voice to come out strong but it sounded weak, as though you were hanging off of his every syllable. 

“you had told suguru that you were going to find your…own way out,” he took a step forward, and here you could see the scratches on his chest, the cuts on his arms, “i was praying to every god there was that you hadn’t found somebody in these past weeks, that you hadn’t…”

you could barely believe his words, not knowing if you should feel offended, shocked, worried, or a mix of all those three. 

“what business would it be to you if i did?” you hate that this was the response you settled on. hurt flashed across his face but he tried to regain his composure. 

“you are my wife-”

“and you are my husband!” you snapped and watched as he was momentarily taken aback by your outburst, but you continued your nose flaring, “you cannot argue with me on this when you left with some girl in the middle of our feast!” you felt all your emotions finally pouring out and you had no control over them, “everybody was talking about it, everybody was looking at me in pity!” your voice cracked, tears poking at your eyes as you pointed an accusatory finger at him. 

gojo looked down, running a hand through his hair as he pointed a finger back. 

“if you had let me explain myself, you would have known that she was trying to do what you thought she was. i left as quickly as i could but you would barely look at me!” you wanted to rip your hair out, cursing yourself for ever feeling any sort of worry for this man. 

“i know that this marriage was the last thing you wanted but at least you could play the part of a husband! you didn’t send a single note, anything to tell us that you were okay, that you were alive!” you heaved, fidgeting with your ring as you wiped at your cheeks, “and you come back here accusing me of adultery? all everybody could talk about was the fact that you were warming somebody else’s bed! they said a meeting never takes this long unless something…somebody else comes up.” your voice wobbles at the end, and you find yourself furiously rubbing your tears away, hiding your sniffing as though that would do anything.  

he paused upon seeing you cry, his face falling as he tried to step forward but you angled yourself away from him, hoping he’d get the hint. 

he wanted to hold you, to tell you that all the rumors you were hearing were false and that the only room he had left in his heart was for you. but he couldn’t blame you for feeling or thinking this way. hell, he was so sure that he’d open the door to find another man comforting you that he didn’t even stop to consider what must have been going through your head all these weeks. 

“one of the clans tried to attack us, and we weren’t ready for it. that is why we took so long.” 

you sniffle again, not caring for his explanation although it did soothe a part of your past self. 

“you could have at least sent a letter telling me what happened,” you fidget with your ring, your thumb running over the diamond, “everybody asked me questions that i should have had answers to, but i had no idea where you were or what you were doing…” he nods, his lips pressed into a thin line as he agreed with you. 

“you're right,” his voice was thick with emotion, the words slurring in his mouth as he found himself anchored in place, not knowing what to do. but you were rambling, your thoughts going on and on and you couldn’t stop yourself. 

“…but i know you don’t like letters, so the least you could have done was send a parchment saying i’m alive or something like that.” you rub at your nose again, feeling like all the weeks of worry we’re coming to a standpoint. 

he looked confused now, if anything, and scratched at his jaw. 

“what do you mean?” 

you scoff at the audacity, rolling your eyes as you feel anger prickle at your skin. 

“you never once responded to any of my letters. in my eyes, that must mean you have some sort-”

“letters? what letters?” 

you glance at him, taking in his shaking form. 

“come on gojo,” you feel embarrassed as he urges you to speak, having to spell it out for him, his eyes pleading with you to continue, “the ones from when you left for training.”

his mouth opens and then closes, looks at the ground and then back up to you as he shakes his head. you could hear your fireplace crackling in the background. the only sounds circling the room were the pops of ember and your breathing. 

“i…” he feels like there’s cotton in his mouth, hoping that you’re lying, “i never got any letters.” 

the fire crackled once again and you could almost hear a pin drop as you shook your head vehemently at his statement. 

“n-no, no you did. i wrote to you every week, i sent one every week for two years and you never responded and my mother said that you must have forgotten about me…” and you trail off, the tears in your eyes stoning as he furiously wipes at his own eyes, and for the first time since you had seen him fall down when he was a kid, you saw his own tears staining his cheeks. 

“nobody gave me your letters. i thought that you,” he takes a deep breath, tongue poking inside his cheek as he tried to control himself, “i thought that you didn’t care for me anymore.” 

you hug your midsection, your emotions running wild at his words. 

“i was under the impression that you hated me.” you admit, and he looks as though you stabbed him through the heart. if only others could see the powerful warrior now, stripped bare to his conscience and all he could think about was you. 

“why…why would you think such a thing?” you two inch closer without knowing it, longing to touch each other, wanting to know that the other was really there and that this wasn’t a figment of your imaginations. 

“gojo, you could barely looked at me that night at the gala and now it seems as though you, well, look at you - you’re flushed!” you’re grasping at straws, motioning towards his face,  twinged with pink as you rub at your nose, “you seem angry whenever i am near-” 

“the only person i am angry at is myself.” gojo whispers, but his voice echoed around the expanse of your skull. 

“yes, i’m aware,” you feel cold despite the fire in the corner, your tone carrying an air of know as you scorn, “i know the last thing you expected by comforting me was a marriage but-” 

“you think i am angry because i married you?” he was moving closer, his hands shaking, his eyes wet. you could see the ring on his finger glow in the dim light of the fireplace, how it shined brighter than any of the night skies, “the only good thing that has happened to me these last few months was being able to introduce myself as your husband. i know that i stripped you bare of any love you may have had for any other man, but call me selfish for feeling glad that i did.” 

you could barely focus on what was happening, his words sinking deep into your skin, going to your bones. 

“i told myself that you had forgotten about me those years i left. when i saw you that night i was so sure you had come with the intention of finding a suitor that i didn’t want to distract you, but then i saw that man come up to you…” and he couldn’t finish, choking on his words as he stuttered, and you saw a glimpse of the boy you had fallen in love with so long ago. 

“and i followed you out. if i knew that simply being alone with you would have gotten me married to you then i would have cornered you in a closet the moment i saw you enter the dining hall.” 

a tear rolls down your chin, splattering on the ground beneath you as you struggle to make sense of what he was saying. it felt as though the months of being married to him were weeks spent pacing around your own rooms, thinking the same worried thoughts, and not having the strength to confront each other about it. 

“you…you don’t hate me?” your voice is timid, almost not believing yourself as the statement tumbled out. gojo had the audacity to laugh a bit, shaking his head as strands of his hair fell into his face. 

“my every waking moment is spent thinking of you. when i was in training, you were all i could dream about, hoping that when i’d come home i could finally have you to myself. 

“you have control over my emotions, my mind, my soul, and i cursed myself for taking away your options for a husband, but the only thing i’ve wanted to do these past few weeks was to hold you in my arms. to tell you just how deeply i yearn for your love back.” 

he wiped at his cheeks, glistening in the faint light. he looked angelic, despite the grime and blood that decorated his clothing. you didn’t want to think about the men he had killed just to come back, to come back to you, and the thought of ever losing him hurt you more than when you spent nights wondering why he never responded to any of your letters. 

you couldn’t stop your feet from leading you toward him, and you could only watch as he met you in the middle, catching you with all his strength, holding you as if you weighed nothing, and it only took a few seconds before your lips collided. 

it was rushed, and messy as you felt his hands holding you as if you carried the weight of the universe. your teeth clashed, your tears staining each other's skin as your hands gripped at his hair, using it for leverage as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, enjoying the whimper that escaped your lips when he nipped at yours. 

it was what years of longing and desperation felt like. how it felt like you two just molded into each other as if your bodies were cut out with the other in mind. you felt like your heart was about to stop beating, and you knew gojo felt the same with the way he’d whine against your lips, wanting you more than you could have ever imagined. 

“we’ve been stupid people, haven’t we?” you whispered as you pulled away, trying to catch your breath as he smiled against you. if only you knew just how much he’d been wanting to kiss you like this, to see your swollen lips as you looked at him from beneath your eyelashes. you were his venus, his only saving grace, and he could only vex himself for ever making you feel anything but love. 

“very, “ he pressed a kiss to the corner of your eyes, “very,” to your nose, “stupid,” his lips were on your cheeks, feeling like he was breathing in new air at the sound of your laughter, “people.” he pressed his lips to yours again, cherishing in the way you whined at the harshness. 

he had spent months convincing himself that you no longer cared for him. weeks of perilous training to only come back to a bed and dream of a girl who didn’t share his emotions when in reality you did. he wants to track down the letters you had sent him, to read every word carefully, as if each sentence carried its own riddle inside of it. he wanted to apologize for never having the honor of experiencing your skilled penmanship, for leading you to believe that he had simply forgotten about you. 

“gojo,” your fingers curl in his tunic, your heat transferring, trying to be rational in such an irrational state of being, “you’re bleeding, i should call for the doctor.” he didn’t stop kissing your face, moving to your jaw as he smiled hearing you shudder. 

“it’s not my blood,” he murmured and you wanted to smack him for how cocky he sounded, “and don’t call me gojo.” he nipped at your lips again. 

“husband?” you found yourself smiling at the title, but he shook his head. you saw how he was trying to hide his own grin. 

“sire?” you tested it out teasingly, hating how it sounded. he seemed to agree with the way he grimaced at the name. 

“my lord?” he wanted to bottle up your laughter forever, knowing he could get drunk off of the sound. his nose nudged up at your jaw, pressing wet kisses wherever he could. 

“hmm, what about my liege?” you're curling a strand of his hair around your fingers letting him settle you down on your vanity as you spread your legs so he could slot between them. 

“my men call me that.” he says, cringing as it falls off your mouth. you pretend to think, not knowing how you were able to live without this banter for as long as you did. 

“satoru?” you felt breathless saying it after so long. but he still didn’t seem to find it satisfactory enough, a pout on his lips as he wanted you to find a better one. 

“close, but only when you’re angry with me.” you tuck that information in the back of your mind for if you ever need to scold him, your cheeks flushed as he interlocks his fingers through yours. 

“‘toru…?” his lips broke into a giddy smile, and you had to control yourself as he swooped back in for a kiss. his eyes were so much softer when he laughed, the kind ones you fell in love with so many nights ago. 

“there it is,” his voice was husky, raw as your fingers gripped at the baby hairs at his nape. he was taking your air away with him and you couldn’t find it in yourself to fight back for it. 

“i forgot how cheeky you can be,” you bite your lip to keep the moans inside, feeling feverish as his tongue ran over his love marks, not knowing what to do yourself as you scrambled to grab onto something to keep you afloat.

“you have no idea how much self-control it’s taken not to ravage you,” his breath is hot on your skin, and he’s tugging at your shirt, fingers slightly brushing upon your breasts, “every night you’d come down for dinner i wanted something different to eat.”

“stoppp,” you mewled, not used to this. he chuckles as his slender fingers work to untie the knot keeping you together, tugging at the string until it falls, revealing your naked chest, heaving as the fabric pooled at your hips. 

you wanted to cover yourself up under his heavy gaze, to take the fabric and hide, but you felt pierced by his stare. his eyes darted to yours as if checking to see if you were okay. when you gave him a timid nod, it seemed as though it prompted him to finally move. 

his fingers were gentle as they ran across your waist, large as they covered the soft of your stomach, eager as they went upwards. he looked like he was crazed and starved, as if you were his last meal and he couldn’t wait for the sweetness death would give. 

your breath stuttered as his fingers found your mounds, rubbing a soothing thumb over your nipples as his pupils grew. he was eager as he flicked them over and over, a cheshire grin growing as they hardened under his touch. 

“you’re perfect,” he murmured, dropping down so he could suckle at your tits, his spit shining in the light of the fire, and you tilted your head back, soft moans escaping as his tongue drew circles around your buds. 

“f-fuck, ‘toru, that’s,” you couldn’t even finish your sentence, his second hand coming to cup your other tit, not wanting to leave her unattended as he sucked and bruised, wanting to forever leave his mark on your untainted skin. 

“good?” he’s so cocky, and you want to smack the smug smirk off his devilishly handsome face. 

his knee is purposefully rubbing against your clothed clit, and you feel yourself subconsciously rubbing yourself against it. you hope that he can’t feel how drenched you are from him just sucking your tits, but he pinches you, pressing his tongue flat against your skin as he looks up through his lashes.

“horny from just me touching you?” he’s teasing you, it’s so painful the way you want, need him like oxygen. you tug on his hair roughly, bringing his spit-soaked lips back to yours as you bite down on his lower one, enjoying the groan you draw out from him. 

“don’t be mean ‘toru,” you taunt, and you feel him melt in your fingers, nodding to your request as he lowers himself down. 

he presses wet kisses down your torso, stopping just above your hips, his fingers hooking along the rim of your underwear, being careful and slow in his movements as he waits for any objections, making sure you’re okay with this. 

but you were in your own world, hitching your leg over his shoulders, drawing him in closer to you, sweat dotting your forehead as he licks a stripe over the cotton on your pussy, smiling to himself at the taste of you. 

you were so sweet, sweeter than any desert he’d indulge himself on. he was sure that once he had a taste of you he’d be able to repent, to go before any god, and to tell them that you were his religion.

he had spent countless nights, tossing and turning in his bed, the only thing putting him to sleep being the idea of coming home to you. running after you that night was him running home to you, regardless of where you were. he was glad he got your hand in marriage, but if he had to, he’d wait another ten years just to hold you in his arms again.

he peels your underwear off, a string of your arousal connecting to it, and he tucks it in his pants, for safekeeping. 

“you’re going to be the death of me.” he says against your heat, his nose rubbing against your clit as your eyes wring shut in pleasure. his hands grip your thighs, making sure you stay in place as he kitten licks around where you need him the most. 

“don’t let…don’t let any of your enemies hear,” your voice comes out in bits, your hand resting on the back of his head as your leg tightens around him, “don’t want them to come after me or something.” 

he snorts, pinching your thighs as if anybody could come within a ten feet radius of you without losing an eye. 

his lips come closer to where you desperately want him, a finger prodding at your tight entrance, his tongue finding your clit as he begins to suck. 

it’s all too much, the sensations far better than your own fingers have ever proved to be. 

his fingers are skilled, long enough that they reach deep within you. he sinks one fully in, your walls clamping around him as he continues sucking your clit, his teeth grazing it every so often, making your head thump against the wall. 

“talk to me, how do you feel?” his mouth discontented from your bud and you whine at the loss. he sinks in another finger to make up for it, but he doesn’t move them, waiting for your response. 

“‘s good,” one of your hands is fisting your discarded robe, trying to hold onto your senses as you desperately nod, “don’t stop ‘toru, please,” and he obliges, loving the sounds of your begging, but loving the sound of your pleasures more. 

his fingers stretch you open and you welcome the sting, your nails digging into him as you long for more. 

he switches his mouth with his hand every now and then, his tongue taking the place of his fingers as it licks at you, groaning at your taste as he eats you out with his entire being, his chin shining with your essence and his spit as his thumb rubs furiously at your clit. 

“mmhhh, just like that, fuck!” you’ve never heard your voice at this pitch, never knew it was possible to feel this way. his other hand reaches up to flick at your nipple, the extra sensation making white dot around your vision. 

you feel yourself getting closer to the sweet release, feel your wall clamp around him even tighter as that knot in your stomach builds to a crescendo. 

“come on, let go f’me, know you want to, know you can.” he spurs you on, his fingers unrelenting as they piston in and out of you, reaching that gummy spot that makes you go dumb.

“fuck, ‘toru, m’gonna, m’gonna come!” you cry out and you’re sure anybody walking past you could hear the debauchery. your thighs were starting to shake and you felt it all go black as you reached your high, your orgasm washing over you unlike anything you’ve ever felt. 

you creamed around his fingers, gushing around him as you wailed out, tears dotting your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure you were feeling. you squeezed around him, wanting to never lose what this felt like, trying to catch your breath as his mouth never stopped sucking at your nub before he was sure your climax was over. 

when he finally pulled away the only thing that could be heard was the two of you, trying to come back down as stupid smiles made their way onto each of your faces. 

he was boyishly charming as he stood in front of you, licking yourself off of his fingers as he grinned at the taste. you couldn’t be bothered to be embarrassed after having him just between your legs, but you still felt a heat blossom in your chest. 

“so…” you awkwardly start, sweat dripping down your face from just how hot the room had suddenly gotten as you avert your gaze, “what now?” 

he shrugged nonchalantly, despite the fact that his heart was about to beat it’s way out of his chest. you let him pick you off of the vanity and tucked you safely away into his chest as he led you to your bed, gently setting you down in your mountain of pillows and blankets as you felt sleep etch away at you. 

“i’m going to clean you up,” he pressed a kiss to your hair, smiling at the way you giddy smiled at whatever he did, a dopey grin on your face as your hand searched for his, interlocking you fingers with his as if you didn’t want to watch him go, “if you let me.” 

you yawn, your head tilting as he sat down at the edge of your bed, still not letting go of your hand as your fingers run through the soft pelts beneath you. 

“and what about you?” your chin points the obvious hard-on growing in his pants. he looks down as if suddenly realizing, and he plays it off by looking back up to you with a wink. you felt your mouth going dry at the size of it, not knowing if you could even be able to take something as big as that. 

“for another day,” he promises, and you’re sure he’s not going to forget it. not like you want him to.

“and then?” 

your question lingers in the air. you don’t want to wake up to him acting like this never happened, as if your feelings were only a figment of your wildest dreams. but his eyes hold onto yours, never letting go as he brushes some strays away from your face. 

“and then i get a bigger bed for my room because there’s no way i’m letting you sleep here alone after this.” his thumb runs along the palm of your hand, his fingers tracing patterns into the soft of your legs. 

“and then?” 

“and then you tell me all the things i missed out on when i was gone. i’ll tell you about the time suguru shaved my head, and you’ll tell me about anything on your mind.” 

“what if i run out of things to say?” sleep is overtaking your voice, and you’re already nodding off, not even truly knowing what you were asking. 

“then i’ll make up stories so that you’re not bored.” he finds a clean towel, soaking it in water from a nearby pitcher as he drags it slowly across your body, as if your fragile and made of porcelain. 

“how do i know you’re not a dream? you might just be,” you yawn, rubbing at your eyes as your finger traces his ring, “you might just be my own mind tricking me.” your eyes are shutting, but the teasing smile on your face never leaves. 

“because a dream wouldn’t hide under a table with you if you asked.” he whispers, kissing your lips with a soft peck as he pulls the blanket over you, letting you sleep into a slumber as he crawls in next to you, holding you to his chest just as he did that night, just as he will every night from now on, and just as he longed for those nights he wished you next to him.

[1800-lemonadeg1rl]

Isolation

Part two of the craving you series (part 1)

Dark! Wanda Maximoff x reader

Minors dni!! Masterlist°•☆

Summary - you settle into your new job while Wanda undos your life

Warnings - manipulation, dark Wanda, obsessive Wanda, unhealthy obsession, breaking and entering, theft, bribery, catnapping, Wanda calls herself mommy, not proofread again srry

Words - 1.8k

A/n - this took me ages to write srry, I still think part one is better tbh

When you first got the job as Wanda's personal assistant you expected it to be strange like the meeting you'd had in her office prior, the one in which she'd has you begging on your knees. Much to your surprise however Wanda was more professional than ever, keeping to herself and only talking about work matters. Little did you know this was because she was too busy eyeing you up to make conversation.The job itself wasn't much too difficult either perhaps even easier than your original job and for the same wage. Your days consisted of planning phone calls, picking up mail, getting her lunch and coffees, taking notes in meetings, arranging taxis, responding to emails and then collapsing in to bed with your darling cats.

Wanda watched on eagerly as you slipped into a blissful false sense of security over the weeks working. Enjoying every second especially since she got to gaze at you every second of the day. The way you did your hair each morning, how you rolled around your wheeled chair had you been sat too long, the same pen you always fiddled with in meetings, how your nose scrunched when your were confused, the cuteness of your little yawns when you were tired. It was all the little quirks she hadn't got to see in you before that she grew to love now.

Her obsession love for you only grew the more time you'd spent with her. Your little smiles and nervous way of talking had her fighting back blush. Wanda was always ever so excited for you to go out on some pointless errand so she could take a look in your bag, one time even being lucky enough to find your treasured journal. Her favourite page, which she took photos of so she could re read it anytime, read as; 'my boss Wanda has been more kind than I could ever wish for, with giving me a new job instead of just throwing me out onto the streets. I wish she could know how grateful I am to still be employed as she could have easily had rid of me. I've always had such a good gut feeling about her as a boss and it's finally been proved correct.

I'd never admit this aloud as I don't think it's appropriate for work but I think Wanda is possibly one of the most pretty women I've ever met, she always has a radiant smile when she looks at me joined with such cute freckles.' Oh if only you knew how Wanda swooned when she read that entry.

Slowly though this new found closeness was not enough for Wanda, she felt as if your gratefulness was dwindling and the time you spent together was hardly enough for what she craved. For what she needed.

Wanda needed a new way to make you come to her to make you rely on her. She needed something you loved, she just had to think of what. That's when she figured it out, she was watching you through her computer one night as you lay in bed peacefully sleeping beside your cats. She knew how much you loved them, how lost you'd be without them.

Her plan was simple, tell you she was going out for lunch with a friend when really she was heading over to your flat to take Marlo and Nixie. Arriving at your flat she saw the front door unlocked and tutted to herself, how silly you really were lucky she was looking out for you or someone could have just waltzed right into your home. Stepping through the front door she was overwhelmed with a euphoric feeling of being surrounded by you and your things. Briefly forgetting about the cats she went around your room, going through your wardrobe, admiring your jewellery and lying down in your bed. But all that wasn't enough for Wanda she wanted a little souvenir from her trip and that's exactly what she got. Going back into your wardrobe she carefully went through your underwear drawers deciding to take a matching red lacey set with rhinestoned buckle, you wouldn't need them anyway the only person you should be trying to impressing was her.

After successfully stifling your underwear she moved onto getting the cats. She'd brought her own little carriers for them, Wanda was no monster of course she'd never harm the small animals you held so close she'd just keep them safe and away from you for a while. Marlo was easy enough to convince to get in the carrier being friendly and easy going almost just like you however Nixie was another story hissing and trying to claw at Wanda anytime she tried to pick her up. Lucky for her shed planned this having overheard you discussing with a coworker several weeks ago about how Nixie didn't tolerate strangers unless she had some catnip. Needless to say she'd prepared for this event. Smiling to herself as she poured the catnip into the carrier and trapping the unsuspecting Nixie inside.

The next day at work Wanda hid her smirk well when she saw you shuffle in with puffy bloodshot eyes with big dark circles underneath, deciding to feign concern instead.

"Oh darling, what's up? You can tell me anything." A comforting smile on her face makes you sure you can talk to her about the cats.

"My.. my cats went missing and no one can find them." Your voice is hoarse from crying as you speak and more tears threaten to fall from your eyes.

"That's no good at all sweet girl." She stands from behind her desk walking over and engulfing you into a strong hug. "If there's anything I can do to help you at this difficult time don't hesitate to let me know." She tells you in a warm voice as she pulls your head closer into her chest making it hard for you not to become flustered.

"Thanks, thank you miss Maximoff." Your stumble through your reply while burying yourself into her strong body.

A few days later and your cats still haven't returned and you find yourself further falling into despair.

That's when you find a letter in your house. One that pushes you over the edge. The one you never wanted to see. An eviction notice. It felt like the life you'd fought so hard for, one you'd dreamed of since childhood was being torn apart before your eyes. As if God was punishing you for some unforgivable sin.

Wanda watched on eagerly as she saw you find the eviction note in your pile of post, a sick grin contorting on her face at the sight of your misery, at the knowledge she'd be the one to bring you back up. The one to heal you. The one you'd grow to adore, worship and crave as she did you.

Of course she was at fault for that letter after having heavily bribed your landlord to get rid of you. At first he was much opposed claiming you to be 'one of his best tenants' and how you never missed rent but after seeing the cash being offered to evict you he couldn't help himself. Wanda knew he'd break easily after all Money really is the root of all evil.

When she saw you sobbing at the kitchen table, shaking hands clutching the eviction notice she wished she could comfort you and tell you it'd all be okay. To hold you tight like she did not a few days ago. Wiping the tears from your delicate face, once you were hers you'd never feel this kind of pain again. Your suffering was only temporary but still it broke her heart to see you so down. Obviously she'd never regret what she'd done. It was all for you.

When you were next in work you felt and were sure you looked like hell. All your energy had been spent trying to find somewhere new to stay but all properties nearby were so expensive or just boxes. Your regular floral dresses had been replaced with knit sweaters and plain black trousers as if this was your autumn, the beginning of your end. When you saw Wanda it didn't help the way you felt when she appeared more put together than usual, her suits crisper somehow and jaw sharper as if while your life fell apart hers had blossomed.

"Darling, you look ill has something happened?" She asks with a practised act of sympathy, she already knew exactly what had happened after all she'd orchestrated the undoing of your life.

"My landlord evicted me for no reason and-.. and-.." You felt yourself becoming choked up as you struggled to tell Wanda what had happened. She picked up on your feelings almost as if in tune with your mind and quickly pulled you into her before beginning to stroke up and down your back in comforting patterns.

"Its okay, I'm here darling. Nothing bad will happen just tell mommy what's wrong." Your eyebrows raised at what she called herself but for some inane reason decided against questioning her.

"And.. I cant find anywhere to stay and my-.. m' cats are still missing and I'm gonna be homeless." She knew youd begun crying when she could feel damp on her blouse where your head lay. Wanda pulled your head back to face her and stroked across your cheeks in such a gentle fashion that you felt you legs may give out beneath you.

"Well you could always.. nevermind it wouldn't be appropriate." She says with pause to look down at your face. "Oh screw it. I can't stand to see you go homeless over some stupid eviction, y/n if you wanted you could stay in my home until you find somewhere permanent." What Wanda hadn't quite anticipated was the way your eyes lit up at the suggestion, she thought you'd have needed much more convincing than you did.

"I.. if your sure it wouldn't be a bother."

"Sweet girl you could never bother me."

That night Wanda took you over to her house and gave you a tour. It was the biggest and fanciest place you'd ever been. More things existed than you thought one person could need. She had everything from pools to inside tennis courts, acres full of forest land to a sauna. You finally understood what it must feel like to be rich. Wanda claimed her guest rooms were under renovation so you'd have to share her room for now. When you accepted sleeping next to her she was so ecstatic she could barely hide it behind the mask of sympathy anymore.

Tags: @reginassweetheart @alexawynters

[billthedrake]

RECONNECTING WITH BRODIE

Mmm... that feels nice, bro.

Bring it in Brodie... your Matt's got you. There... lean back against me.

(chuckles) You're sweaty.

We're both sweaty.

Hm, didn't know you could get like that going slow.

Slow and long, buddy. We were at it almost an hour. That's why.

(Pause) I sometimes wish Dad would go slow. Usually, it's... I wish I could tell him to go slow.

(sound of a hand patting tight abs) You can, Brode. You should.

(sigh) I know. I just want it to feel good for him. It's weird but now that we're boyfriends, I dunno....

Boyfriends talk about shit. You should tell him.

(more resolved) I will.

(soft kiss to the head) You're all jacked Brodie... when did you get so big?

Since last Spring. Been working on it. You guys should come to visit more often.

I know. It's complicated.

I know. I just miss you guys. Dad does too.

I'll be back for your graduation. I'm sure Connor will, too.

Hmmm.... I like the way you touch me, Matt.

I can't stop feeling you up.

Then don't.

You OK with me shacking up with you tonight, buddy?

Oh yeah. I figured that was going to be the arrangement. You know, with Dad and Connor having their date night.

Doesn't mean you have to like the arrangement, Brode. You OK with them together?

I'm not jealous. And Dad... well, he kind of encourages me to be with other guys.

Have you?

A couple, yeah.... Damn, Matt, whatever you're doing with your hands is boning me the fuck up again. Already.

Connor doesn't like this... after he cums, he's done.

Dude, he's missing the best part.

(chuckles) Maybe you should tell him that.

I fucking will. Seriously, Matt, you should became a masseur or something.

I have a day job already.

I know, I'm just saying.... mmm, a little lower, oh fuck, right there.... making my cock leak and you're not even touching it.

So Brodie, be real with me bro... how's the boyfriend thing working out?

I know I seem messed up, Matt, but it's been mindblowingly awesome.

Doesn't seem like this bed's been slept in much.

Bro, I haven't slept in my own room since I got grounded.

(laugh) Dad grounded you?

(laugh) Yeah, back in the summer. For breaking curfew. Three fucking weeks. He thought he had to act all paternal, you know.

How was that?

Dude, I was pissed. And we were fucking blue balled for three weeks. The make up sex was pretty intense, though. Kind of made it worth it.

Yeah?

Oh yeah. Only time I think I really loved it hard.

Jesus.

You're getting bricked again, Matt. I can feel that big cock against my back.

(soft kiss to the head) Just hearing my little brother talk like that is wild.

Huh. I think that's why I wanna get big. So you guys will stop thinking about me as little.

(Pats chest) It's not about size, Brodie.

I know, Matt. Still, I wanna get big. Bigger than Dad eventually.

Bro, I'm bigger than Dad. He's solid, but he doesn't lift.

I'm surprised you ended up with Connor, actually.

I love Connor's body. But it's more than that.

Yeah?

He's my brother, like you Brodie. But we've always been especially tight. Grew up together. And maybe I go for the smart ones. (chuckles)

That's cool. I guess go for the strong, silent type. Connor probably does too.

He does. (scoots) Here, let's shift a little.... much better, Brodie.

(soft kisses)

Fucking nice.

Yeah, Brode... fucking nice.

Man... your fucking arms are insane.

Connor likes 'em.

I bet he does. Fuck.

Brodie... I don't wanna be the older brother who's always lecturing you, but life is more than muscles you know.

(chuckles) Easy for you to say.

(smiles) Well, feel em all you want, buddy.

I will.

(More kissing. Deeper, longer)

You're so hard, Matt.

Guess I have a fresh pump from my workout this afternoon,

No, I mean your cock.

Oh yeah, it's been like that the last fifteen minutes. I got my stud little bro in bed with me.

I'm not little, Matt.

You're not. 6'5" (kiss) tight end body (kiss) D1 ready.

Hmmm.

You ready to break some hearts at Stanford, bro? (kiss)

I'm a little in denial actually.

Bro, that letter of intent is signed. Big fucking accomplishment.

I know. I mean about going off.

(sigh) You gotta, Brodie. Gotta leave the nest. Become your own man.

I know.

You know... Dad's gonna have empty nest syndrome like crazy. You can probably get your way for the next few months.

Yeah? (chuckles) No more being grounded?

No more being grounded.

Shame, I'll miss the make up sex.

Dude, homecoming sex is just as good.

Fuck.

(wet kissing)

You think that's what Connor's going to feel tonight?

I know that's what Connor's going to feel.

He's probably not going to tell Dad to go softer, is he?

Knowing Connor... no, no he won't. But don't compare yourself to him, Brode. Him or anyone else.

I guess.

You're Dad's favorite, buddy. He worships the ground you walk on.

Yeah. Matt... you wanna fuck me again?

You know I do Brode. But let's take our time. We got all night.

You must think I'm an impatient kid.

You're a horny fucker. I like that.

(kissing)

Jesus, Matt. I'm gonna try this out with Dad.

Try what, bro?

The whole slow thing. I'm so fucking horny with you.

(kissing)

I can only imagine what this would feel like with Dad.

Tell him, Brode. Make it happen.

I totally will.

(kissing)

Jesus, Matt, I fucking love your muscle. My big brother.

You're fucking jacked for 18, bro.

Mmm... does Connor get into it?

Yeah he does.

Does you guys, you know, ever do any worship stuff?

You mean body worship? (softer) We've done that.

Hot. (softer) I wanna ask Dad to try that too.

(chuckles)

You think I'm weird.

Hardly. I'm just picturing Dad doing a worship session with you.

He's not very verbal.

No he's not. I think I heard him say 10 words all through high school.

(laughs) Come on, Matt... he's not that bad.

I exaggerate. But not much.

(kissing)

(ooof)

Fuck yes.

You like that buddy?

I love you on top of me, Matt. How much you weigh?

250.

2-fucking-50. Fuck.

Does Dad know you curse like a sailor.

(laughs) He once grounded me for that, too.

I remember that. You were testing his authority.

Dad doesn't like that.

No, he doesn't.

Thought I was gonna get whipped, too.

Dad wouldn't do that.

I know. But fuck, I really thought he was gonna get the belt, he was so mad.

Brodie, you called him the c-word. In front of Mom.

I was there, remember? We laugh about it now.

Mmmm... feel my arms stud. You like those.

Yessir.

(kissing)

Damn, Matt.

Damn, yourself. Someone taught you how to kiss.

Yeah. Dad.

You're a better kisser than him, bro. For real.

(more kissing)

How do you think date night is going?

Sure you're not jealous, Brode?

Sure I'm sure.

Connor misses Dad. A lot.

You don't?

I do, too. But...

I know... it's complicated.

(kissing)

OK if I tease the hole a little Brode?

You gotta ask?

Sometimes it can get uncomfortable keeping your legs spread.

(smirks) Sounds like you speek from experience, Matt.

Some. Tried it but realized bottoming wasn't for me.

Dad?

Dad. And a couple of dudes in Chicago. Never felt good.

For what it's worth you're an amazing top, bro.

Thanks. I have some amazing inspiration beneath me.

Oh fuck, you're big.

You took me just now, Brodie.

I did. That was thirty minutes ago.

Who's counting?

Fuck.

Easy buddy, just gonna work it in and out.

That big brother cock.

Yep, that big brother cock. In my little bro's tight hole.

I'm not little, Matt.

(smiles) And you're not gonna be tight when I'm done.

Jesus.

(heavy breathing)

Connor's one lucky dude.

Mmmmh....

Hope that wasn't the wrong thing to say.

I can take a complement.... gonna go in with more.

Please.

Goddamn, that jock hole is amazing. So wet....

That's all you, Matt.

I can see why Dad has you sleep in his bed each night. Fuck.

He doesn't make me, bro. I wanna.

I know.

Jesus, how much did I cum?

You don't know?

(laughs) I thought I did. But fuck... (choked grunt)

Why'd you stop?

Shhhh...

(whispers) Is that them?

(whispering back) Yeah.

(kissing)

(quiet) They're gonna fuck.

Yeah Brode, they will.

So fucking hot.... you in me, while Dad bones C.

Shit...

That turns you on too.

Hell yes it does.

I can tell. You're rock hard inside me. Alive.

If I tell you something will you keep it a secret, Brode?

Course.

If Dad asked me on date night while I was here, I'd say yes in a heartbeat.

God you guys are so fucking stubborn.

I inherited his worst traits, Brodie.

And his best.... oh fuck me, man.

Like this?

Yeah, just like that. So fucking nice.... I don't know how you even go so slow.

It's because it turns you on.

You like me whoring out for you?

I don't like that word.

Sorry.

You don't have to apologize. I just don't like my little brother thinking of himself that way.

Unng.... deeper, man.

Ummmf.

Yeah. Fuck me.

Your voice even gets deeper when I fuck you Brode.

Just fucking shove it in me already, bro.

Slow, remember?

(laughs) You're killing me.

Like that.... yeah... you feel it.

God!

I wanna get us both there, bro.

You're gonna, Matt.

Feel me up, Brode. Feel my muscle while I fuck you.

You're bottoming out now.

I'm bottoming out.... I'm not as big as Dad.

You're big enough. Fuck.

You're a firecracker, bro.

Goddamn, Matt. I love this.

Me, too, buddy. Hang on.

Oh fuck... oh fuck.

Turns out I have more than one speed, little bro.

Fuck me, Matt!

Huhnng.... they're gonna hear us Brode.... they're gonna hear me fuck you.

FUCK ME!

You naughty fucker. Hot fucking ass.

So wet. I can feel your dick sliding in and out.

My cum. It's frothing up.

Dude, you're fucking railing me. Stirring it up.

Ung... ungh... ungh...

Matt, just fucking cum... Fucking cum up my hole.

Almost there, bro.... too fucking hot.

Fuck me like Dad fucks me.

Jesus. FUCKK!

YESS!!

(heavy breathing) God.... that was....

Stay in me bro... like that... saw that brother dick in and out while I stroke...

Go for it bro.... Your Matt's got ya.

Yes... oh, I'm gonna.... oh yeah... oh fuck... SHIT!

Stud!.... shit, that's a big load.

(laughs) Jesus, yeah. Guess the slow thing really works one up.

OK if I pull out?.... whoa I wasn't kidding... you're all frothed up, bro. Like a...

You were gonna say 'whore' right?

I wouldn't call you that, Brodie. But fuck...

We're even sweatier now.

Got my cardio in that's for sure.... damn these sheets are fucking soaked.

Maybe I should change them. Put these in the wash.

You're not doing a damn thing. Just relax. Bottom's prerogative.

Dude, is that even a thing?

(chuckles) For me it is. A man puts out like that, I'm taking clean up duty. OK?

OK.

(kissing)

Damn. Dad definitely didn't teach you how to kiss like that.

You haven't kissed him in a while, Matt.

I know. Still.... my brother's got game.

(smiles)

Where are the clean sheets? I'll go get them.

Wait a second, OK?

What's wrong?

Nothing's wrong. I just royally fucked twice. I wanna hold the man who did the honors for a second. OK?

Mmmh... yeah. Sorry. How's this?

Perfect.

(kissing)

You know, Connor chastises me for not being romantic enough sometimes.

You guys bicker a lot?

Our fair share. It's been more since Connor moved in with me.

I keep waiting for me and Dad to get like that.

Whaddya mean?

You know... argue... like a real couple.

Dude, he fucking grounded you.

(shrugs) Yeah, he was being Dad, though. That's different.

(kissing)

Mmm, nice...

I'll say.

You know... I think you should tell him, Matt.

Tell who? What?

Tell Dad you wanna go on a date. You guys are here, what? Three more days?

Bro, it's fucking Christmas.

So?

All right. (light slap on flesh) OK... time to change these sheets. They're fucking drenched.

You're totally going to listen in to see if you can hear Dad and Connor, aren't you?

(laughs) Maybe.

(chuckles) OK, perv. I'm gonna shower off. Maybe you can make me a midnight snack while you're out there. You know, bottom's prerogative.

You got it, Brode. And breakfast, lunch, and dinner tomorrow, too. Just now... that was frickin' incredible.

I agree, Matt.

[juminies]

in order to get to the heart

marriage of convenience, on occasion, is not so convenient.

♡ — jumin x original female character. small amounts of canon compliant jumin x reader, but mostly canon divergent (jumin is unhappily married prior to the start of the game). 1600 words. title from heartlines by florence + the machine.

They just say anything to each other these days.

“This façade drains me beyond comprehension,” Jumin confesses the minute he walks through the door. His fingers loop into the knot of his tie and pull it looser around his neck.

“So you say,” murmured half into a cushion tucked up to a woman’s chest as she types on her phone. “It’s not for our benefit though, is it?”

On some level, this is always how it was going to be for Jumin, he thinks. In a marriage stripped to its fragile bones. A sacrificial lamb for the sake of the corporation, for mutual social and financial gain.

He leans down to untie his shoes.

It would be untrue to say there weren’t veiled attempts, in the beginning, to love. When that didn’t work there were attempts to like. None successful, of course. Lately it’s becoming more difficult to believe this arrangement is better than any alternative. Between the two of them there is a lot of nothing.

The woman remains quiet—focused—but nods easily against the woven fabric she’s leaning into when Jumin asks, “Do you not get tired of coming home from work to find me occupying your space?”

He knows that in public they look good together. He knows that their careers slot together effortlessly. Despite what the media may suggest, however, they are human. Jumin included. The way he feels nothing for her does not match the way she feels nothing for him. The way she yells that he is robotic does not match the way he stoically calls her irresponsible.

They do not sleep together, or eat together, or do any of the romantic things Jumin wishes he hadn’t let himself privately indulge in the idea of. And it’s not that she’s not nice—she’s intelligent and beautiful and kind, when it suits her. Perfect on paper until she wasn’t. When she laughs with her chest Jumin can almost imagine a world where she smiles at him like she does others and it makes his heart weak. Part of him wishes, truly, that that was the case. In reality it feels like nothing.

It could be worse, he tells himself—repeats it like a mantra.

Concealed beneath it is fear. You could be like him. You could repeat his mistakes.

She throws her phone haphazardly onto the sofa beside her and looks up to where Jumin is standing in the doorway. He’s mostly backlit from the light in the hall, the lamp beside his wife barely grazing his features but lighting up hers in all the wrong ways. The orange glow casts unpleasant shadows over places she’s usually pretty. He should have the bulb changed to something less harsh.

“Not much we can do if you don’t want the press to kick up a huge fuss, sweetie,” she says.

The pet names are a jest he has learned to tune out.

“Will they not make a fuss over our divorce in three years’ time nonetheless?” Jumin asks. It’s hypothetical, of course. They will.

“Maybe we’ll have grown on each other by then.” Her tone is disinterested; feels almost mocking. Her phone chimes to let her know her driver is outside. “I’m going out. Shall I take my card or yours?”

“It makes little difference to me.” Jumin looks at his watch. It’s almost 10pm but he doesn’t ask where she’s going. A bar, perhaps.

“Could you adjust my necklace?”

She holds her hair up messily, and he does.

“Let me know if you need anything,” he tells her, then briefly wonders if she’ll meet someone tonight and sleep with them. He pictures her naked beneath a stranger. It feels like nothing.

She takes her own card and squeezes his bicep softly as she walks by him on the way out. She shuts the door more forcefully than is ever really necessary.

At some point Jumin suggests she move out of their—his—apartment and into the one directly below; just recently made vacant. He probably would have suggested it earlier had the apartment been available earlier, but their district of Seoul tends to be under high demand.

“I thought we agreed it was a bad idea to live separately,” she says. It’s a statement, not a question. They had done exactly that.

Jumin hums, tired. Tired from his trip and tired from trying and at some point, it seems, he has lost an indistinguishable part of himself to her for good.

“We did. Although I would say that that was long enough ago now for us both to have become quite aware that we do not do particularly well sharing the same space for considerable periods of time.”

“You’re gone a lot anyway. The place is big enough for us to avoid each other if needed, and I like it here.”

She exhales sharply; amused.

Jumin has no idea why until she adds, “More so when you’re not around, to be fair.” And that explains it, just about.

“Stay here when I am travelling if you must,” he tells her. Somewhere along the way his suggestion has morphed into more of an instruction.

“Fine. Don’t tell your father, though. Or mine.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

They buy it outright in her name, the cost split fifty-fifty. Jumin tells her to keep it all when she sells it later. She tells him she won’t.

They argue tonight, as usual, about who will be chauffeuring them to a company gala. They had agreed that Jumin’s driver would take them only for her to assert for the hundredth time at the last minute that she doesn’t trust him, though she has not legitimately spoken to him more than once and he has been working for Jumin’s family longer than she has been alive.

It’ll cause a stir if the two of them show up separately so they end up in her car, as usual. Jumin apologises to Driver Kim via text for requesting him when he wasn’t needed on the way there, and they arrive late.

The venue reminds Jumin of the last RFA party. His wife had not attended despite her invitation, so it is not proper grounds for conversation. However, when they are out like this they are a happy couple like the legal drabble says, so he says it anyway—if just to appear interested in her.

“I’m sure this is nicer than your friends’ charity get togethers,” she replies lightheartedly, and they are called over by her father before Jumin can retaliate.

The façade stays firm for the remainder of the event. Jumin can easily distinguish her fake laugh from her real one, and he can tell when she forgets who he is for a moment and touches him a little more tenderly than either of them really mean.

They are silent on the drive home. They are silent in the elevator, until it stops one floor below Jumin’s penthouse. “Goodnight,” he says. “Sleep well.”

“You don’t have to say that, you know,” she counters, and smiles softly as the doors slide shut between them. “Not when it’s just me.”

Elizabeth the 3rd is snoring softly when he unlocks his door, and it is the only sound he can hear. He basks in the bliss of having nobody around when he is already so mentally exhausted, and takes out his phone to see it’s just after midnight and Yoosung has opened a chat room.

He enters it, multitasking as he changes his clothes and brushes his teeth. His cat patters into the room and jumps up beside him when he perches on the edge of his bed. She smells frustratingly like perfume and something oddly like guilt threatens Jumin with a dull blade.

Wait!! says Luciel. Think someone entered the chat room.

Jumin checks. There is a name on his screen he doesn’t recognise.

Odd.

Who are you? Identify yourself.

“Jumin. It’s me,” your voice is soft and bubbly; maybe a little nervous but still pleasant on his ears. An intriguing introduction. He almost finds himself chuckling.

Jumin moves the phone from his ear and glances down at your name again, just to be certain he’s not imagining things, then focuses in on the plainness of the wall in front of him.

“I hope you realise blurting out ‘It’s me’ is not a proper way to identify yourself to the person on the other end of the line.”

He had hesitated briefly before telling you he is married. Now he has known you for five days and whatever he’s feeling is somehow, ridiculously, already far greater than any emotion he has ever felt towards his wife.

He invites her out for dinner at their usual restaurant the following evening, and she tells him if he has something to discuss with her she would rather keep it simple. As an alternative he invites her to the penthouse and opens a bottle of wine he knows she likes. When she arrives her hair is tied up experimentally and she is wearing a new shade of lipstick. She surprises him when she actually accepts his offer to pour her a glass.

“I am going to talk with my father,” Jumin says, and she knows what he means. It’s only later that he will find out she had already brought it up with hers. “For what it’s worth, however, I apologise that it ended up like this.”

“Me too,” she agrees. Jumin notices the light catch a glassiness in her eyes as she continues, “If I could have loved you, I would have.”

She stays for a few hours and it is the most sincere time they have spent together in three years.

That night, Zen has a dream.

[meganslife]

Pen pals - p. parker

TASM! Peter Parker x Fem! reader

summary: peter parker is your pen pal.

warnings: none so far!!!

hello helloooo!!! i had this idea because i myself have a pen pal, and it’s honestly really fun and reminds me of peter. this will be multiple parts!! anyhoo, happy reading!

Having a pen pal was fun. It gave you something to look forward to whenever you needed to open the mailbox. It was nice, although your lovely pen pal, Peter, was on the other side of the country. You were in Seattle. He was in Queens, New York. It was a nice arrangement that you two had. No phone numbers, just handwritten letters, and cute little pictures.

When you opened your apartment mailbox and saw that you had a letter from Peter, your heart felt warm. It was the warmest you’ve felt in a while.

Y/N,

My apologies for not writing you back sooner. School is kicking my butt recently, and I moved back in with May (hence why a new address is on the envelope). My old roommate went BALLISTIC on me for little things, so I decided I needed to leave. May is a better person to have around, anyway.

The fall semester ended last week, and I wish I could say that I passed my finals. My professors are just mean, I think. I’ve been super stressed out lately, and writing this letter is helping me. You’re my savior. Also, the pictures you sent me of you in Tennessee are amazing. You should be a model! I’m sure you hear that a lot because of how pretty you are;)

I hope it’s not too cold in Seattle. I took some pictures of random things I thought you’d like, maybe that’ll distract you from how cold it is. I know how much you hate the cold. (You chose the wrong place to live!)

Anyhoo, I’m sorry this letter is short. My wrist is cramping up and May needs help with dinner. Write back as soon as you can.

Much love,

Peter ♥

Photo one: Peter in an obnoxiously large New Year’s Eve hat, grinning from ear to ear with his friend(?)

Photo two: A Polaroid of stray cats bonding in what you assume is Peter’s front yard.

Photo three: A Polaroid of Peter that was clearly taken by May. Peter is holding a tray of muffins, and he looks really stupid in his apron.

You get to writing him a letter right away.

Dear Peter,

I love the pictures. I’ll add them to my growing collection on my wall:)

My day has been so shitty. I wish you were here. It gets lonely, sometimes. I have friends, I’ve told you very little about them. They’re great, don’t get me wrong, but living alone is just lonely. Maybe I should get a cat or something. I need something to come home to. (Sorry for making this portion of the letter sad. I just needed someone to talk to.)

The weather in Queens looks nice. You’re awfully lucky, Peter. It’s cold and slushy here. I’m cold to the bone. Like, nothing will warm me up. It’s annoying. I just want it to be summer again. I hate being pale and cold.

I don’t have any pictures as of right now, so I’m sorry about that. I have some drawings I could give you.

My letter is short too, so I guess we’re even. I need to nap the sadness away.

Cold and loving,

Y/N ♥

~

The next letter you receive from Peter is about a week later.

My dearest Y/N,

I’m so sorry you aren’t feeling well.

I know we said we wouldn’t exchange phone numbers, and I respect that, but I just need to give you mine. I need to. Just in case. I don’t want you to be sad and lonely and have to wait for my letters to come. I like you. I like you A LOT– And I honestly want to meet you in person but that’s a conversation for another day. I’ve been saving up for it. Maybe you should come during the spring? You’d love it here, I know it. Or I could come to you? Whatever, we can talk about it more over the phone.

My phone number:

(718)-XXX-XXXX

Call me;)

Love always,

Peter ♥

You immediately spring up to your feet and grab your phone. Your hands were shaking as you dialed the number and called it, praying he wouldn’t think it was a spam call.

“Pete?” You ask, voice higher than you meant it to be.

Boyish laughter erupts on the other end of the line, and you already know that it’s Peter. Of course, his laugh would sound so sweet.

“Hi, lovie.”

[puppiesandnightlock]

LINK: but since the world’s obsessed with saying ‘psych’ (pt.2)

summary: Milkshakes, fries, trespassing and mild auto theft :D

Jon bounced on his toes, hands behind his back as he waited for the teacher to poke their head in and allow them both to leave. That was the only way Damian would let them leave would be if they were formally dismissed, and for some unknown reason, he was ready to do anything the other boy said, as long as it meant they’d be going to the diner together.

At first glance, it seemed as if Damian was fully invested in his book, but a bit closer and he was watching the bouncing teen from the corner of his eye, resisting a smile as the earlier characterization of him being a puppy ruled correct. His clothing needed work, and his mannerisms as well, and he’d make that known once he figured out just how long this would actually last.

“Mr. Kent, Mr. Wayne, you are both free to go.” The teacher finally dismissed them, and Jon hovered over Damian’s chair, watching as he arranged his things in his messenger bag.

He slung it over his shoulder, shooting the excited teen a mildly annoyed look. “And you were offended about the puppy comparison.” 

“I’m holding onto that, I will turn the gremlin thing onto you eventually.” Jon smirked, looming above him. “Would you look at that, you’ve got the height part down already.”

“Shut up.” He grumbled, holding onto the strap of his bag. “Do you want me to come or not?”

The other only chuckled, holding the door for him. “But of course, Your Highness. Forgive my words.”

He sniffed, nose in the air as he played along. “I suppose you’ve been pardoned. Now, onwards to the feast.”

The face lasted a moment longer before they both dissolved into laughter, moving down the halls of the school at a swift pace.

“We’ll have to walk.” Jon noted, once they were out at the pick up area. 

“The sun is up, does not seem like an issue.” Damian brushed it off. “You have directions and I wish to have lunch, so the quicker we’re off, the better.”

“Yes, of course, your very royal highness.” Jon rolled his eyes, beginning to stride away in one direction, longer legs making for quicker strides. 

“Hey!” the other boy protested, jogging to keep up. The taller one laughed, speeding up more.

 “Asshole.” he heard Damian mutter, smiling to himself. Yeah, so maybe he was, but really, it was all worth it to mess with him.

They ran down the streets of the city, Damian calling out obscenities as Jon cackled, always a few paces ahead. He slowed as they neared their destination, letting the shorter boy catch up and swat at him.

“See if I ever come with you again!” He huffed, holding onto the strap of his messenger bag, tugging at the collar of his green pullover.

“Aw, come on, D ,” he said, nickname coming out mockingly. “If we’re gonna be friends, you gotta keep up with your little gremlin legs.”

He groaned. “Oh my God , fuck off. How many jokes are you going to be making about this? Gets old pretty quick you know, J .”

“A bad word !” Jon gasped, now walking in tandem with him. “Whatever will your family say?”

“They’d wash my mouth out with soap.” Damian deadpanned. “Only there wouldn’t be any left by the time they’d finished with my brother.”

He snorted, before tugging on his sleeve, boldly slipping his hand into the smaller caramel one. “C’mon, we gotta cross the street.”

Damian said nothing, only flushing mildly. Jon looked anywhere but at him, cursing the fact that the paleness of his skin did nothing to hide the growing red creeping up his face.

He let go as they reached the other side, gallantly opening the door for the other boy, bowing slightly as he did so. The other boy made a clicking noise, one that he’d so often associated with negative things, now sounding mildly amused. If he’d looked up, he would have seen the slight shake of his head, lips turning up a tic.

A blond freckled girl with the same piercings as Jon came up as they entered, tying back her apron without looking up.

“Hello, welcome to-” She paused looking up at the two, a grin spreading on her face. “Jonathan Samuel, why haven't you come around and who is this beautiful boy?” 

Jon looks sheepish. “Hey Kath. I been busy lately, how’re your folks?” 

Damian was almost appalled, flushing from the girl’s words and marveling at how easily Jon slipped into a much more civilized manner, southern accent showing when he spoke to her.

They stopped in their conversation, Jon pulling Damian in front of him. “This is Damian, he’s…a friend.”

Kathy’s eyes sparked at him. “A friend you say, huh?” She eyed him for a minute, before turning to Damian. “What’d he do to you?”

“Kathy!” Jon barked, flushing.

“Ain’t no way he bagged a pretty thing like you, you gotta be here because he did something to ya and now he’s tryna make it up.”

He raised an eyebrow at Jon. “You do this a lot?”

“Taking that as a yes.” Kathy nodded. “You look prep, he knock your books over?” 

A devilish smirk came over his face and Jon was hit with the reminder of gremlin-like. “Well, that’s one way to put it, but really, the whole story is a lon-MPFFH!” 

His mouth was covered and instinctively he licked the palm, biting at the hand as it was wrenched away from his mouth in disgust. Jon wiped his palm on his jeans while Damian wiped his mouth, both disgusted. Kathy ( The traitor, Jon thought bitterly,) was doubled over laughing, arm propped on the podium holding menus for stability.

“Y’all make such a funny pair, never thought I'd see the day someone corralled Jon.” She giggled as Jon shot her a dirty glare.

“Oh, like you weren’t just as bad! You got a piercing every time I did and you dyed your hair black, and I bet fifty bucks you still wear your eyeliner like I do!”

“Mm, yeah the black hair was not my proudest moment but also, it was like 8th gradebordering freshman year, and i’m attempting to reform.” She put her hand to her heart dramatically. “Of course, I tend to relapse when you drag me into shit.”

“Like you’re complaining.” Jon laughed. “Now, table for two, please.”

They eventually made it to a table, ordering two milkshakes (an almond milk one for Damian) and a side of fries. 

The whole thing was oddly date-esqe and it made the both of them desperate for small talk. Damian, ever equipped with manners and experience in polite conversation, started up the questions.

“So, when you said you were raised in a barn, what did you mean?” 

Jon seemed to light up, recounting his old life in Kansas, talking about the farm he’d grown up on, his and Kathy’s old adventures, and stopped once he mentioned moving to the city.

“Kath moved here a bit ago, we’d kept in touch but don’t see each other too much anymore. She’s still my best friend and stuff but the city’s weird.”

Their food arrived and they shared the snack, chattering on about things. By the end of it, Jon had learned Damian had six siblings and several brothers-in-laws that hung around their father’s large house, as well as many pets. He liked art and led the art club with his friend Skylar, and had met Maya and Colin in elementary school.

Damian learned that Jon had been raised a well-mannered southern boy, as much as he tried to deny it and undo the teachings now. He saw flecks of homesickness when he talked of the country, sadness when he spoke of his parents who had once been there and were now constantly busy, leaving him with his older brother, even though said brother had his own life.

It was insane to the both of them just how much they’d learned about each other after one civil interaction, how much they were being drawn to one another. It was all getting much too sappy and feelings-like for the both of them, so they split the bill and walked out into the night, afternoon sun shining a bit lower in the sky, not quite yet sunset. 

“C’mon, we’ve got some time before it gets dark. Let’s just chill for a bit.” Jon gestured towards the signs pointing to the parks around the city. 

They wandered around a bit, going towards the edge of the city where the forests were. “Hey, wanna wander around here a bit?” Damian said, breezing past him through the broken gate. 

Jon eyed the sign, hanging off one side of the wire. “I’m pretty sure that says no trespassing, D.” 

“The gate’s broken, it isn't as though we’re committing some great offense.” He knocked the gate with a shoulder and the sign fell off. “Oops, there’s no longer a sign to read.”

Jon looked scandalized, what was this, some sort of personality switch? “You’re insane.”

“C’mon, the sun's not down yet.” He went through the brush, raising an eyebrow as Jon refused to follow, bouncing on his toes nervously.

“Scared, farm boy?” He taunted, Jon scowling and taking a step forward.

  Knew that would work.

“Not a chance, darlin’.”  The other boy followed after, pet name slipping from his tongue easily. “I am blaming you though, if we end up being caught doing something as stupid as this.”

Damian scoffed, walking through the thicket. “With your demeanor, I'd assumed you knew the most important thing about doing something mildly illegal.”

“And what is that, exactly?” 

He swallowed as the other boy turned, mouth going dry as a mischievous smirk was shot his way. The words that followed, however, were completely unexpected. 

“Don’t get caught.”

They made it around, exploring the tangles of greenery and knocking branches into each other’s faces when they heard the beginning of a party. The sun was hanging dangerously low in the sky, still not yet sunset. 

“Damian, we’re gonna get in trouble,” Jon hissed. “We should go.” 

“Shhh.” the other boy waved at him, creeping closer. It’s been awhile since he’d done something like this, but he felt the once familiar excitement creep up on him, an amazing feeling that he was determined to chase. He was nearly there, when a branch behind him snapped .

The chatter from the place stopped, and Damian squeezed his eyes shut, cursing everything. Slowly he turned to the culprit, mouthing at him to ’Move back, you idiot, you’re going to get us caught.’

Someone from the other side of the brush called out, “Hello?”

”Shit.” Damian backed away, and suddenly footsteps began coming towards them. 

“This is private property, you’re trespassing!” The voices were mixing together and the steps getting closer and suddenly he turned, snatching Jon’s hand and bolting, uncaring of how loud it was.

”HEY!” the voices behind them screamed. Jon seemed paler than usual as they burst through the brush out into a clearing with a dirt road leading out. 

“There must be a vehicle around here somewhere, they did not walk down here…” He murmured, glancing around the area. He turned, letting go of the other boy’s hand and smacking him lightly on the cheek, frozen blue eyes coming to attention and locking on his green ones.

“Is Houston having a problem up there, Hayseed?” 

Jon seemed to come back to life, mouth opening and closing with no sound coming out. Finally, he blinked a few times, blurting out “You’re actually clinically insane.”

“So you’ve said.” The shorter boy deadpanned. “Thought you would have done this kind of shit all the time with your track record.” 

Jon attempted to sputter out a response as Damian looked around, finally spotting a few bikes and ATVs hidden behind a small fence.

“Well, when we were gonna get caught, we ran the other fuckin’ way, not towards it!”  He followed Damian, still talking and waving his hands in the air. 

“Keep your voice down.” Damian hissed at him, climbing the wiring and swinging a leg over to the other side. “And move your skinny ass, we’re gonna book it out of here.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Jon retorted, doing as he said anyways. “You’re the most asshole goody-two-shoes teacher’s pet I’ve ever met and a day into getting to know you and we’re on the run and you’re climbing fucking fences and holy shit are you hot-wiring the fucking bike? ”

Damian had produced some small tools from his messenger bag, prying into the closest vehicle, which happened to be a motorcycle. “Yes, now shut up and go pick the lock on the fence.”

He tossed him a kit and waved him away, Jon smirking as he moved towards the lock. “Bold of you to assume I knew how to do that.”

He snorted. “Please, it would be an embarrassment to yourself and your reputation if you couldn’t at least do that .” 

The bike started up, and he swung a leg over it, grinning at the noise of the engine. He guided it over to the entrance, where Jon had successfully opened it. “Get on.” 

”What the hell?” a screech came from where they’d come out of the brush. ”Yo, someone’s jacking your Dad’s Harley!”

Jon needed no more prompting, barely getting on as Damian hit the gas, propelling forwards and zooming past the trail in record time.

He had an iron-clad grip around the other’s waist, fear dissipating as they cleared the area.

 “Holy shit. ” he whispered. “Holy fucking shit.” 

The sun was setting now, painting the sky beautiful colors of orange, pink, yellow, and deep blue. The rush of adrenaline was catching up with him now and the events of what had just happened came crashing down on him. Throwing his head back, he let out a loud laugh, whooping as they shot back into city limits. 

“You didn't leave your mind back there, did you, Kent?” Damian called over the roar of the engine. “I’d hate to have to explain that to your brother.”

Jon was still giggling as he leaned forwards, loosening his grip on the boy in front of him. “No, just the rush. Dude, how’d you learn how to do all of that? Like, God, that was so cool , and if we ever get caught we’re in so much trouble , but it was freaking awesome!”

“I’m glad you thought so.” he responded dryly, slowing the bike down. “We can leave this here, and we’ll walk the rest of the way.”

The sky was close to dark as they walked back up to the nicer areas of the city, pausing at the Waynes’ residence. 

“Thank you for inviting me today,” Damian told him as they reached the gate, the line perfectly practiced. 

Jon stared at him blankly. “This isn't a gala, dude, you don’t have to thank me. You’re a pretty cool guy, not at all what i expected.”

He bumped him on the shoulder gently, the atmosphere softening. “If anything, I should be thanking you, because I haven't had this much fun for a while. I honestly didn’t think you had it in ya, but after this and you kickin’ my ass, i’m pretty sure i misjudged you completely.”

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, Kent.” Damian said after a moment of silence. “But today, you’ve seen more of me than most people have.”

“Friends?”

“I suppose so.” 

[amadouers]

[  …  ]  ❀  you’re  not  from  around  here,  are  you  ?  i  figured  because  you  totally  just  missed  milena  “mila"  bukowski  walking  by.  don’t  tell  me  you  don’t  know  who  she  is  ?  they  kind  of  look  like  rachel  zegler  and  i  could  be  wrong  but  i  think  that  they  might  be  26  years  old  right  now.  they’ve  been  living  in  palmview  for  the  last  2  years.  and  i  don’t  know  if  anyone  has  ever  told  them  this  before  but  they  kind  of  remind  me  of  jackie  burkhart  from  the  70s  show.  if  you  stick  around  the  town  long  enough  you  might  catch  them  in  action  working  at  cove  wellness  center  as  a  receptionist.  you  see  this  town  isn’t  really  that  big  of  a  place,  some  folks  like  to  call  them  the  airhead  of  palmview!  they  took  a  liking  to  the  name  too  after  a  while,  go  figure.  oh  crap,  they  must  have  heard  me  yapping.  they’re  coming  this  way.  i  got  to  warn  you  though,  rumor  has  it  they  can  pretty  materialistic  at  times.  i  wouldn’t  take  it  too  seriously  though,  from  the  times  i’ve  spoken  to  them  they  seemed  pretty  vivacious  to  me.  we  see  each  other  all  the  time  since  they  live  in  that  2  bedroom  apartment  beside  me  over  in  sunny  shores.  i  better  leave  you  to  it.  it  was  nice  meeting  you  !

statistics  .

full  name:  milena  grace  bukowski.    nickname(s):  mila,  miley.    age:  twenty6.    date  of  birth:  august  10th,  1998.    hometown:  miami,  florida.    living  arrangement:  sunset  villas  #2b,  sunny  shores.    sexuality:    heterosexual.    occupation:  receptionist  at  cove  wellness  center.    traits:  vivacious,  loyal,  outgoing,  envious,  materialistic,  judgmental.

biography  .

born  and  raised  in  miami,  but  visited  palmview  during  summer  breaks  to  spend  time  with  her  grandpa  throughout  her  life.  mila  had  a  close  relationship  with  her  grandpa,  who  often  spoiled  her  rotten  growing  up.  not  that  her  parents  didn't  (  being  the  youngest  of  two  siblings  made  it  easy  for  mila  to  be  the  favorite,  but  her  parents  often  reminded  her  that  it's  important  to  stay  humble  )  but  she  totally  got  grandpa  wrapped  around  her  little  finger  and  anything  mila  wants,  mila  gets.

mila  had  it  easy  for  the  most  part.  everything  had  been  spoon  fed  to  her  since  day  one  so  she  never  had  to  worry  about  a  thing,  which  made  her  come  off  as  shallow  and  conceited.  still,  people  find  her  endearing;  she  was  never  a  mean  girl  although  she's  part  of  the  popular  crowds  at  school,  having  joined  the  cheerleading  team  since  her  freshman  year.

(  death  tw  )  her  grandpa  passed  away  right  before  her  high  school  graduation.  it  took  her  a  while  to  get  over  his  death,  considering  how  close  she  was  with  him,  but  her  parents  had  been  there  for  her  throughout  it  all.  she  stopped  visiting  palmview  since  then,  stayed  in  miami  with  her  family,  only  moving  to  california  when  she's  ready  for  college.

college  was  a  nice  distraction  and  just  like  in  school,  mila  was  thriving.  probably  not  academic  wise,  but  she's  able  to  make  the  most  of  her  time  there.  after  all  it  was  daddy  dearest's  wish  to  have  her  attend  his  alma  mater,  and  mila  only  obliged  because  what  else  was  she  supposed  to  do  ?  even  if  she's  not  interested  in  studying,  most  of  her  friends  were  going  anyway,  so  she'd  go  for  the  experience.

once  she  graduated,  mila  went  back  to  miami.  her  parents  let  her  stay  for  a  bit  before  suggesting  that  she  should  learn  to  be  independent  now  that  she's  old  enough.  mila  wasn't  too  excited  of  the  idea  of  having  to  do  things  by  herself,  already  gotten  used  to  everything  being  provided  to  her  all  this  time.  she  knew  her  parents  meant  well,  but  that  didn't  mean  she  wouldn't  be  dramatic  about  it.  finally  made  up  her  mind,  mila  decided  to  move  to  palmview  in  an  attempt  to  be  independent;  it  was  daddy  who  paid  for  her  apartment  in  sunny  shores  (  only  until  she  gets  her  first  pay,  that's  the  deal  !  )  and  got  her  the  job  at  cove  wellness  center.

it's  hard  to  navigate  a  whole  new  life  by  herself  in  palmview,  but  mila  is  never  one  to  give  up  easily.  no,  actually,  it  was  something  that  her  brother  has  said,  something  about  mila  not  being  able  to  live  without  her  parents'  help  and  now  she's  determined  to  prove  him  wrong...  it's  been  two  years  since  she  moved  into  palmview  and  mila  could  say  she's  doing  good  -  well,  great,  even  -  although  she  whines  about  it  all  the  time.  she'd  make  it  work  though  !

personality  .

although  she  might  not  be  the  sharpest  tool  in  the  shed,  mila  is  known  to  be  kind  and  affectionate.  the  type  to  wear  her  heart  on  her  sleeves;  has  been  told  she's  bad  at  hiding  her  feelings  because  of  this,  you  could  literally  tell  it  from  the  look  on  her  face.  as  much  as  she  tries  to  be  in  denial  about  it,  mila  constantly  craves  attention  and  validation  from  people  around  her.  always  feels  like  she's  lacking  something,  although  there's  nothing  a  good  outfit  couldn't  fix.  falls  in  love  very  easily  and  probably  has  a  different  crush  every  week.  daydreams  a  lot;  totally  dreams  of  getting  married  to  the  love  of  her  life  one  day  and  starting  her  own  family.  that  being  said  she's  almost  always  dating  somebody,  loves  the  idea  of  being  somebody's  girlfriend.  a  ray  of  fucking  sunshine  and  a  little  bit  of  a  dramatic  queen.  probably  uses  the  i'm  just  a  girl  reasoning  in  every  situation;  knows  she's  pretty  and  will  use  that  to  her  advantage.  again,  she's  just  a  girl  <333

[ticklishbeans4]

Pillow Fort Problems

I had no idea what to title this, but hope you enjoy it lol

Simon rarely got moments of peace in this hell hole he was trapped in. Either running from those freaks of nature, or running after Marcy, or trying to find food or shelter. It wasn’t an easy life by any means, but they made it work.

As they walked through the broken city, something in the corner of his eye caught his attention. It was the sparkle of glass from a broken sign, one to a mattress store… “Say, Marcy, you ever make a pillow fort?” he asked cheerily, smiling at the girl on his back.

“Mmmmm, nope!” she replied, popping the P.

He hiked her up on his back and bounced towards the store, making her giggle as she was bounced. “Then I think it’s about time you learned little missy!”

“Onward!” she cheered, squealing as he ran towards the store, making car noises as they went.

He fake screeched to a stop when they got to the doors, “Keep your peepers open Marcy, we don’t wanna be snuck up on.” She nodded, “Ok Simon.”

Together they searched the store, luckily it wasn’t a huge warehouse. But with no sign of the creatures, he relaxed a bit. “Alright Marcy, we’ll need blankets, pillows, and chairs. But we could probably use the mattresses if we can’t find chairs.”

 “Mhm!” she nodded, taking his hand and walking towards where they'd seen blankets.

Simon was honestly a bit shocked at how well everything kept. Most blankets and pillows were filled with holes and torn up by who knows what. But most of these seemed in pretty good condition for the most part. He would try to keep to the most intact ones though. “Simon look!” Marceline called, holding up a baby blanket with little ducks on it. “Isn’t this one soooo cute! And it’s soft too!” He smiled at the sweet little girl, she really didn’t deserve this life… she deserved so so much better… “It’s lovely Marcy, let’s add it to the fort.”

“Yeah!” she beamed, holding the little blanket close. Simon felt his heart melting all over again for her, she really was the light of his life. He’d have nothing if it weren’t for her.

With a bit more searching, they found plenty of blankets and pillows. Simon arranged some mattresses in the corner for better stability. It was a pretty simple fort, but with some colorful blankets and pillows lovingly arranged by Marceline, it didn’t look half bad.

“So? What’d you think, pretty cozy huh?” he asked, sitting on the blanket pile with Marceline in his lap.

“Mhm! Definitely cozy.” she agreed, the duck blanket wrapped around her shoulders like a little cape, or a shawl.

“Think we might stay here for the night, if we put a mattress in front of the entrance, no one will know we’re here. What’d you think of that?” he smiled, bouncing her a bit on his knee. She giggled, hugging him. “I like that idea! Maybe we can stay here forever! And build a giant blanket fortress! And it’ll be soooo strong, so no one will be able to come in and attack it, or us! And we can eat mattress stuffing and pillow feathers for food!”

“And what about water?” he asked with a chuckle, he loved her imagination, and her innocence. He wished he could give her the world, or even just a safe and comfortable place to lay her head at night.

She rolled her eyes, “Well duh! We’ll collect rain water at first, but then, we’ll train squirrels and raccoons to get us water and other kinds of food!”

“Oh duh! Of course, how come I didn’t think of that?” he lightly smacked his forehead, acting embarrassed for his lack of foresight.

“Cause you got poop brain!” she giggled, squealing happily as Simon held her up in the air by her underarms.

“I do not have a poop brain! How dare you!” he cried dramatically, “Would someone with poop brain know that you have a ticklish spot riiiiiight here!” He swooped her back onto his lap, clawing at her belly.

Marceline squealed loudly, kicking her feet happily.  “Ehehehehehe! Nohohohoho! Simon! Thahahat tickles!”

He laughed along with her, poking randomly at her tummy. “I know! That’s the whole point! Silly little ladies get tickled when they say people have poop brain!”

“I’m sorryyyyyy!” she squealed, curling up on his laugh and giggling her little head off.

He chuckled and stopped, picking her up to hug her. “Aright, I forgive you. But I might not be lenient next time!”

She giggled, hugging him back. “Ok Simon!”

That was when he felt the tiny fingers wiggling into his ribs. He gasped, falling over quickly and wriggling about. Drat, seems he was as ticklish as a toddler. He snorted, grinning and kicking a bit till finally he broke, giggling like mad. “Mahahaharcy! Nohohohoho!”

“I got you Simon!” she laughed, scribbling into his ribs like an evil little tickley gremlin.

He squeaked and tried to scoop her off him, but every time he lifted his arms, she’d dart her hands to his underarms, making him shoot them back down. It’s like she had this down to a darn science! How to turn Simon Pretikov into a giggly mess 101, and she was top of her class.

“Okahahahy! Ok you wihihihihihin!” he squeaked out, flopping back as she stopped. The little gremlin grinned as she sat on his chest, “I’m the best tickle monster!”

“Yes you are darling.” he smiled, rolling over and squishing her as he peppered her face with kisses, making her squeal and laugh.

“Simoooon!” she whined through giggles, “You’re so grooooss!”

“I know sweetheart, it’s what makes me so great!” he laughed, cuddling her close to his chest. Glancing out the opening of their fort, he saw it was getting dark. “Alright Marcy, time to close up Fort Marceline.”

“Ok Simon.” she chirped, grabbing a mattress and tugging at it. Simone smiled affectionately and helped her pull it the rest of the way.

He pulled a blanket over her, tucking it around her and kissing her forehead. “Snug as a bug in a rug.” “Goodnight Simon.” she yawned, closing her eyes as she snuggled Hambo. “Goodnight Marceline.” he hummed, watching her as she fell asleep before he settled down for a likely restless night.

[theblueskyphoenix]

Hi and welcome to a huge backlog of sketches and concept art I’ve have on the computer for awhile that I decided to finally post in one big sketch dump.

So I have fun little thing known as Court of the King where each of the protagonists get to interact with each other through magic reasons. In this said thing, most of the protagonists have grown up and some even have families. With all this in mind, let’s get on with explaining Fusion King Judai.

Judai at this point in his life has been able to move on from what happened during the events of GX. Took a bit of soul searching and therapy but he’s a lot happier now and is content with himself. So much so, he’s now actually teaching others how to duel at his own little set up known as the Duel Lodge. A place for others like him that are Duel Spirit sensitive or are kind of out casts. All are welcome at his humble abode. 

Another thing he has worked out is his relationship with Yubel. The two are pretty chill with each other and are a pretty good team  now. Yubel can even shift forms now at will. Comes in handy with not scaring people off, and blending in better. Bottom line, Yubel is more chill now and only really starts to get unhinged if you try to harm Judai or his family.

Speaking of, another thing Judai has got going for him is his family. After his long journey of soul searching, Judai returned to reunite with his friends to mend some fences... and with Asuka in particular, rekindle a relationship. Which eventually bloomed into a proper romance to eventually marrying her. Leading to them have their two sons, Kichiro Yuki and Raiden Yuki. 

As far as Judai is concerned, his life going pretty good for him. He went through a lot but he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

And that’s basically all there is to it for Fusion King. Now as for what we see here.

Concept art for his final draft and initial draft as Fusion King. First try I wasn’t too pleased with. Felt it wasn’t really flowing all the well design wise. So tried again and well, much happier with him having a longer coat. A nice blend of Supreme King and his old school jacket. Really wanted to show how he basically came to terms with everything. 

Supreme King slight redesign. Nothing major just minor tweaks. Mainly changing the helmet design and re-arranging some of the spikes. Judai can actually take this form if he wishes but it’s rare that he does.

Asuka concept art. Blend of her look from ARC-V and her GX design. She’s a teacher at the academy so gotta look the part.

We got the Yuki boys, Kichiro and Raiden. Both are adorable and precious. Kichiro has his dad’s old jacket and wears it proudly. Raiden isn’t really looking to duel, he’s more into soccer so hence the soccer get up. He’s still a good boy.

Spooky, who is Kichiro’s Duel Spirit companion. He’s a spooky moth kuribo and he wants candy! 

Yubel’s different forms. As stated above Yubel has chilled out so it has allowed some new abilities to come through. Especially for not scaring the boys. (Which Yubel is uber protect of.)

Judai, Yubel and Pharaoh while they were still traveling. (Back before I redesigned Judai so we have the old design of Fusion King.) 

Johan, Cho and Hayato as adults. Johan also did some traveling like Judai but has since settled down and is a pro-duelist. (He has a family of his own to tend too.) Cho and Hayato both work for Industrial Illusion. Cho making model kits of monsters and Hayato being a lead artist of duel monster cards.

Line of the Yuki family all together, ages and heights included. 

And to close out, a sweet little doodle of Judai holding a baby Kichiro.

And that’s it. =D Hope you all enjoy. 

Now I need to work on my other info dumps for this Court of the Kings thing. 

Stay tuned.

[breitzbachbea]

@fvriva Copying this out so I can do more stuff -

But yes! One of Charlie's many exes, only two of whom have ever received a name, is a guy called JJ! His full name is Jacob Johnson and I once posted some old pictures I had of him here .

They used to date when Charlie was pretty young and just out of school and were part of a bigger gaggle of gay guys. Guys who were just experimenting and finding themselves ... and who thought it'd be funny as fuck and their good right to fancy Charlie's father substitute Paddy. Charlie didn't find that shit funny at all, but kids can be so cruel. (I also bet like some were like "Ohhh, he's from the North and he's kinda badass, do you think he's an ex-Provo?" because these boys are pulling a Michelle from Derry Girls. And saying "He's a Prod from Derry" has zero effect, because then it's "Oh my god, that means he doesn't got all that repression! I bet he's a real Casanova!" at which point Charlie was ready to either eat the Abrakebabra tray himself or shove it down someone else's throat.)

However, Charlie's boyfriend JJ never participated in that tomfoolery. Because he was a clever young man, who knew if he kept it to himself, he could date Charlie, partially to get closer to that hunk of man. Enjoyed it very much whenever he was with Charlie and Co. and Paddy was around.

However, JJ overall didn't feel like Ireland was a great place to live and wanted more opportunities, so like many young Irishman, he went away to America. And before he left, he did the kind thing of breaking up with Charlie ... and also the not so kind thing of telling him the truth in regards to Paddy. Rough breakup.

JJ gets to America, things don't really turn out as they are ought to be and America has more or less just the same problems he wanted to escape, be it in a different costume. Poor JJ falls in with the Mob to get by and after seven or eight years, he is like "Hey. I am not gonna snitch on you, I am not gonna cause trouble, but I just wanna go home. Could you arrange something for me?"

And his boss, a young man called Alfred Jones, is like "Hmm, sure! I think I know someone you could work for, someone to keep eyes on you and who takes care for you in Dublin! Harry O'Connel's the name!"

And JJ does think. Hey, that's the name of Charlie's childhood friend. Even the surname is spelled that weird way ... But he shrugs it off, because maybe someone just left an L off the end and there have to be plenty of Harry O'Connell's in Ireland.

And Harry thinks the same when Al talks to him about an Irish guy called Jacob Johnson, like yeah yeah sure. Fork found in kitchen situation.

And then JJ arrives back in Dublin, goes to the office after some preliminary meetings with other subordinates or so, walks into Harry's office ... and Harry's face is not one that you forget. Not much has changed since puberty is through. And thusly Harry also learns that he has hired Charlie's ex as a new subordinate.

So poor JJ, comes home from his failed American Dream, learns that his ex's childhood friend is a mobster and THEN learns that the same holds true for said ex and has always been the case for the middle-aged guy he fancied.

JJ has learnt a lot about himself since he went away, especially about his priorities in life, so he now also realizes that Paddy was just some embarassing Teenage infatuation and nothing genuine at all. Not to mention that he may have a soft spot for Charlie still, but no old spark that is still alive. Charlie does make a bit of an ass of himself for wishing it was the case and being thoroughly disappointed when he gets mercilessly roasted by JJ and not even a little bit fancied. Sir, you are getting steady now, you don't NEED your ex-boyfriend for approval.

That's Jacob Johnson! Poor lad, deserved better :/

[thebreakfastgenie]

iirc glee had a billy joel episode, or at least did several covers of his songs. do you have an opinion on that?

I've seen the episode, which is called Movin' Out, at least four times. I've also seen all the covers in other episodes. This took forever to answer because I decided to go back and watch some of these to refresh to my memory.

I appreciate that they did it. It was nice to see him get the recognition. Mr. Schue using him for the lesson was a fun idea, I wish the writers knew a bit more about him though because there were missed opportunities! I could have done it better. My overall opinion is that's underwhelming. I want it to be better than it is.

The covers themselves are......... mostly not good. The first time they did Piano Man, when Mr. Schue sang it with Neil Patrick Harris, it was diegetic, the two of them singing it together in a bar, so they were able to do the cut by just having them not finish the song, which was really good. I thought that one worked pretty well!

Puck's Only the Good Die Young is... fine. It's not great but it's fine. It's fit in the episode is a little tenuous but whatever. I enjoy the line about only doing songs by Jewish artists that precedes the cover. There are worse covers in that episode.

The Warblers doing Uptown Girl was good! It would have been even better if Glee could resist the urge to Glee it up so much and it sounded more like a boys' a cappella group would in real life but it was really close to that and it was fun.

New York State of Mind is a mixed bag. They did really well in some parts and not as well in others. Marley held her own but Rachel definitely did better. I wonder if Rachel's at least was an homage to Barbra Streissand's cover, but it's not too on-the-nose obvious if it is. Rachel singing New York State of Mind as a new student at NYADA is hilarious on a Watsonian level, like it would be such a cliche, but I think on a Doylist level it's an excellent choice. You know, it's a jukebox musical, she's excited to be in New York where she's been desperately working to get for the whole show up to this point. It's a good choice. I'm not convinced Lea Michelle and Melissa Benoist couldn't have hit some of the notes that get sidestepped, I think it was just the arrangement, but what do I know.

The Longest Time was okay. I think it would have been better if, again, it didn't Glee it up so much, but it's a much bigger problem here than with Uptown Girl. It's an "unplugged" song during a power outage and I wish they let it sound more like that! Let it be more acoustic and rougher sounding! It's supposed to be like that anyway. Good use of that song but just a failure to execute. I also can't stand the Glee style of dancing, especially by that point in the show, and I feel like it doesn't fit which makes me like it even less, but I'm trying to judge this more on the use of the songs and not inherent Glee problems.

My biggest complaint about the covers in Movin' Out is the cuts are just so bad. I know they had to cut them for time but they could have done it better! It's really jarring! The actual singing is also pretty meh. I like some more than others but I don't love any of them.

I have a certain fondness for Ryder's An Innocent Man. It's musically just okay but I enjoy how it's used. I don't think he really gets those notes though. 75-year-old Billy Joel is like "pray for me to hit the high note" and then kills it every time. That kid could do better.

I hate the use of Honesty, it's so weird, and I also don't like the cover. Sorry Artie.

I don't love the cover of Just the Way You Are but also it's Just the Way You Are. What can I say. Not the worst use of it in the plot though.

I hate the cover of Movin' Out. I don't really enjoy the montage thing either but it's fine I guess. It's weird because I would think Darren Criss would be able to do Billy Joel but I don't like any of his parts in this episode.

Jake singing My Life while also asking Marley for a second chance is kind of funny. I also remember that one being meh to fine.

It's hilarious that Blaine says "sing along if you know it" about Piano Man to a crowd in a piano restaurant in New York City. That place probably needs a "no Piano Man" sign like the sign in the guitar store in Wayne's World. Also as a side note if they could have gotten a Billy Joel cameo that would be the scene to do it; he should have been like "no not this song again" and stormed out. OR they could have had him correct Blaine because the sheet music is wrong (in real life that was with Just the Way You Are but creative license is allowed).

Ending on You May Be Right was a solid choice but I hate their version of it. It's terrible.

The choice of songs is... fine? I could probably make a better track list for a Billy Joel episode if you gave me some time, but they picked a decent mix of hits I guess, especially considering which ones they'd already used (of course they repeated Piano Man. of course.) I would like to see Blaine try Summer, Highland Falls, I think. Ultimately I think the biggest problem with Movin' Out is that Glee had declined so much by season 5. A Billy Joel episode in season 2 or 3 would probably have been better. There was just more care put into the music back then.

By the way, Billy Joel gave permission for Glee to use his songs but said he'd never seen the show because he only watches the History Channel.

[ohdudedhesflirting]

Meet me in the gardens, part 2

Pairing : Kim Jiwoong x f!reader

Synopsis : After being send out from home, you finally meet the man you will have to marry, Prince Sung Han Bin.

Warnings : Allindans y’all won’t like it lol. Very quick and unclear mention of adult stuff. Princess calling but in a mean way.

Notes : I was actually very nervous for which way this would go and the amazing people of the zumblr discord truly helped me and cheered me on. Shout out to them <3 . There will be a total of 4 part, this one is small but it was to understand better what will follow.

🌸 🌸 🌸 🌸 🌸 🌸 🌸 🌸 🌸 🌸 🌸 🌸 🌸

"This is an abduction"

Looking at you with discontent your father was only dissapointed at your behavior. He had been woken up in the middle of the night by his butler, because apparently, his daughter, which he educated and cared for during 20 years, was currently planning on running away before marrying a prince. How disappointing of a daughter she was..

On your side, you could only think of Jiwoong, the man would be waiting alone, in the gardens for you. You looked distraught at your pocket-clock. There was 10 minutes to go before your secret rendez-vous.

You knew Jiwoong and you knew that he would never left, always waiting for you. You looked over the window of your carriage. As if looking away would keep you away from those thoughts.

How could your father have known ? How could he strictly went off with you in the carriage without any luggage or package ?

You knew that your father was desperate to marry you off but to send you away this way in the middle of night was defintely something else..

"Listen to me YN, in two days times we will be at the palace and you will behave do you hear me ?"

Without a word you kept looking away, you just wished you could have went away faster, if everything went as planned you would have been in Jiwoong's arm, running away from this life you never wanted.

Arriving at the palace, you looked at your surroundings, it had been an hour you arrived, and you had been installed in the said little (as big as your bedroom) tearoom, waiting for the prince to arrive.

Where you excited to meet him ? No. All of your thoughts were towards Jiwoong, it had been days and you still did not what happened to him.

Did your father sent out maids or servants for him ? Did they fetch for someone to arrest him under false prestense ? Most important of all, was he safe ?

A voice took you out of your thoughts as the prince was announced to come in the room. Both you and your father rose to your feets, dressed in a new green dress.

The prince, Sung Han Bin accompanied by his father, the king came onto the room and greeted you both.

The man in front of you could have been deemed pretty : tall, slim figure, small face and attentive eyes.

Both sides took place and sat to discuss the preparations for the upcoming wedding. Cake, flowers arrangments, the wedding list, the guests.. Everything was run over from the bottom to the top from both of the men.

Both you and Han Bin stayed quiet, mindlessly the man was only looking at you and you were stricly avoiding his gaze.

« Well. I guess that concludes it. »

Both of the man stoop up and you both follow them in their actions. Your father looked a moment before adding "We should give them some time alone together" The king quickly agreed and left the room, leaving you speechless.

What about the decorum? Manners ? What happened to having a chaperone in the room when you are with a man ?

"You came quicker than expected"

Han Bin was the first one to break the silence, trying to make small talk. You slowly nodded your head. Nor really wanting to reply to him, you had others stuff in mind.

The quicker you would leave this room, the quicker you would be able to send a letter off to your brother to ask how things were at the domain, indirectly asking for Jiwoong.

"Something must have happened in your domain."

You quickly took a look at the man. Standing in front of you. His demeanor was quicky changing. He looked more proud and intimidating than he did before.

The man was satisfied with you looking at him, and he got closer to you. Cutting shorter the respectable distance that was between you both.

"Am I right ? A little bird told me you had your own little lover man back there.. your father found out right ? What a shame.."

The way Han Bin looked at you now was simply threatening. Like an Eagle watching his prey. You slowly swallowed your own saliva. Your brain trying to understand the situation.

"Did you send someone to spy on me"

Han Bin got even closer to you and with one of his fingers started to play with your hair. "I have to know who the person I am going to marry is like right?"

A shiver went down your spine. This man had been aware for this mariage since a long time, and he had somehow planted a spy into your house. A place you where supposed to feel safe in.

Getting even closer to you Hanbin whispered in your ear "Even if I don't like that my future wife was touched by some other man, its good that you have some experience, I am sure that I will enjoy it. Princess"

Now completely terrified of the man in front of you, you found the strength to push the man away and getting out of the room.

Loudly the Prince yelled out of the tearoom "I cannot wait for this month to pass, and know what it's like to have you under my skin"

There was something evident. You could not marry the Prince Sung Han Bin. And you could not ever be alone in the room again with him.

To be continued...

Taglist : @seok02 + @hikarii02, @jiaant11

[otakween]

Digimon World: Digital Card Battle (1999) - End game thoughts (20 hrs in)

Yay, this was really fun and easy to beat! Honestly, that's how I like my video games, I just want to chill at the end of the day, not stress out. There were one or two battles that presented a slight challenge and that's good enough for me.

This game had so much charm and was a fabulous companion to Digimon World 1. It's kind of like its quirky and more casual cousin. Kind of baffled that there isn't a fan translation (that I could find) because it's honestly a pretty short game with not a lot of dialogue.

I'm going to do a little bit of post-game poking around, but here are my immediate thoughts after beating it.

Notes:

-I wonder if the lack of localization is 100% due to the Hitler stuff (which...fair) or if there's more to it than that. I get that it would have been difficult to cut that part out entirely, but maybe they could re-skin things to look less sus? I dunno...too late now.

-I was so happy with all the stats they give you during the end credits, that was such a nice touch! They gave me my playtime, how many times I saved, what decks I used and how I used them. Interesting stuff. I feel like TCG are for stats nerds lol (the only math class I enjoyed in high school)

-It was really cute how they recreated all of the scenes from the game with CGs. Of course, it would have been nice if those were just in the game proper, but oh well :/ it was fun looking back on all the battles and quirky events

-So...the Japanese was a bit tricky for me to follow, but it seems like this whole game had a gag plot? Like you spend the whole game trying to get to Mt. Infinity to retrieve a "bug card", but then you get to the final boss and he's like, "Huh? Who are you? What's going on? I've never heard of a bug card in my life." And then Betamon (who came with you for moral support) is like "oh yeah, I dropped that card and it was blown away by the wind to the top of this mountain teehee." Lol. So really, there was no villain...I guess. Really the MC and Babamon are the assholes for destroying Machinedramon's home for no reason.

-Speaking of gag plot, most of the plot of this game is on the very silly, toilet humor side. A majority of it is tracking down toilet paper and finding the culprit of who is breaking all of the toilets. In hindsight, this might be another reason this didn't get localized...

-So Babamon was Rosemon all along...okaaay. I didn't really get this twist because Rosemon switched back and forth between her two forms throughout the game before the bug card (which supposedly cause the transformation) was destroyed. Maybe it was a Fiona from Shrek situation.

-I was a little sad that I got all of these great "Sevens Cards," but then didn't want to use most of them. The only one I really ended up using was the holy one because it gave my digimon +1000 HP. Everything else seemed too risky to use. Honestly I used the same deck without many changes for 90% of the game. Kind of lame, but editing decks was sorta painful in how time consuming and clunky it was. It seems like arranging a deck would be a lot more fun IRL though, I kinda wish I had some actual cards to fool around with.

-I was surprised to see that there's no Analogman in this game. I guess that just goes along with this being a much chiller, parallel universe.

-I physically can't 100% this game (because of missable battles), so I'm just going to take it easy for post-game stuff. See how many more cards I can get and do a couple more battles. Excited for this game's sequel!

Despite the weirdo storyline and questionable content, this was one of the better Digimon games so far. Due to my high levels of enjoyment, I'm giving it a solid 7 out of 10.

[jerzwriter]

Eli & Zoe - Their Exes

For those of you who were here back in 2021, you may recall these templates that were created by the amazing @jamespotterthefirst. They were fun, and they were also extremely helpful in developing characters and creating backgrounds. So, I decided to do this template for Eli & Zoe in my Wake the Dead world. I may do others if I feel they will be helpful.

Since they live in a post-apocalyptic world with very different realities/challenges that we face, their history is different, yet, there are some similarities to things we experience today. They are not all pretty, and I will place trigger warnings before each photo/slide so you can skip over specific ones if you wish.

If you're reading my WTD fics, I hope this helps you understand the characters better, as it has helped me in creating them.

One last note, I will use these FCs for Eli (Kendrick Sampson - yes, he resembled Jesse Williams - no - it's not him lol) and Zoe (Adria Arjona). But I will be using them RARELY. I am really hoping to rely more on artwork for fics in the WTD world. Also, thank you to @cariantha for the suggestion for Eli.

Eli's Exes

TW: Missing person

FC: Hera Hilmar

Eli & Nessa loved each other but were not in love. Each got 50% because they were just so confused and unsure of their real feelings.

They were the best of friends and trusted each other implicitly. But commitment is at 50% again because of the uncertainty. If things had turned out differently, there is a good chance they would have ended up together. If they decided to commit to each other, they would have remained fully committed - in love or not.

TW: Not exactly healthy sexual relationship / No abuse

FC: Charlize Theron

There was zero love, or even like, between Eli & Cora.

This was a purely sexual relationship born of pure physical need and loneliness.

While the "relationship" lasted around 9-months, their encounters were limited and only took place when Eli traveled to her town for trading purposes.

TW: None really for this one, though it does discuss arranged relationships in a controlled society.

FC: Jannik Schumann

Jon gets a 20% for "in love" because Jon was in love with the idea of pleasing the leaders. He was not in love with Zoe at all.

Friendship and trust levels are low but not non-existent. At that time, Zoe was still cordial with Jon because they were training together. Had they been sent on missions, she would have trusted him... to a degree... and vice-versa. But the more he became loyal to The Tower, the less trust/friendship they had.

TW: Grooming, inappropriate relationships with an authority figure

FC: Chris Pratt

Zoe entered into this "willingly", believing she was seeking a physical, no-strings-attached relationship. She was actually a little proud of herself for doing so. It was only later she realized how Carlton was a groomer who took advantage of those who were his students and others he had power over.

Because of this, Zoe has a 15% for "in love" because, in the start, she thought maybe they meant something a little more, but Carlton knew exactly what it was the entire time. This is also why there is a 10% for commitment - mostly on the part of Zoe.

Trust is at 50% because initially, Zoe trusted him, maybe not fully, but a good deal. Of course, that was crushed. She did not trust him after, but to a degree, she did. They both had to trust that the other would keep their "secret" for different reasons.

TW: None, really - but it does discuss anti-LGBT views in The Tower

FC: Henry Golding

Zoe & Tylo were not in love with each other, not at all. But they did care about each other very much. Their relationship was up front, supportive, and healthy - so they get a 25% on "in love" for that reason.

Friendship, trust, and sex were all high. Not unlike Eli & Nessa, if these two were "in love," it could have been a good thing, but they weren't.

That said, commitment got 50% because they were very committed to what they had. They were committed to protecting each other. But neither had any illusions that this was "true" or would last forever.

A little bit more...

I will tag Perma & WTD lists separately.