#this year wasn’t the best for me personally

[ohbueckers]

HEART OF A WOMAN. watch me going out of the way, when i should’ve went home, only time of the day i get to spend on my own.

02, CHAPTER TWO. IF I CALL, YOU GON’ ANSWER?

ju speaks. hey again… this is a long one-ish. two chapters in two days who am i? after this, the next will take me a few (?) but i wanna have something out for what’s my name or tcptg in the meantime! pairing. wnba!paige bueckers x fem!oc. warnings. same old + sexual content.

flashback, april 2019.

the streetlights give me away as i pull up to her driveway, cutting the engine just before i reach her house so i don’t wake her dad. since getting my license (bad call, honestly) we do this more than twice a week. i lean back in the seat, my fingers tapping the steering wheel, waiting for that porch light to blink twice—her signal that she’s sneaking out the door.

and there it is. two quick flashes, and she slips outside, her hoodie pulled up, backpack slung over one shoulder. even in the low light, i can see her outstretched grin as she spots me. i can’t help but grin back.

nailea opens the passenger door, sliding in quietly but still managing to make a mess of everything, her bag knocking into my elbow. “my bad,” she whispers, but she’s laughing, already reaching over to shove the old takeout containers from our drives last week.

she throws me a look as she buckles up, and i’m already bursting into a smile. “paige-freakin’-bueckers, a husky,” she says, smacking my arm repeatedly, grinning like a proud mom. “uconn better know how lucky they are.”

i laugh, shaking my head as i pull out of her driveway. “they better,” i say, smirking, but my heart’s racing just hearing her say it. i committed just today, and she’s the only person who could make this feel more real for me. “took ‘em long enough to get me.”

“you’re gonna be big, p.” she says, leaning back and crossing her arms over her chest, sighing out. “even bigger than now.”

i grip the steering wheel a little tighter, keeping my eyes on the road, but the way she says it—like she’s already seeing me at the top, like she’s imagining everything that comes next—makes it hard to keep my focus. nai has this way of believing in me that feels so solid, so certain. i don’t think anyone else could ever see me the way she does.

“i wish you were coming with me,” i say quietly, almost more to myself.

she glances over at me, her expression softening in a way that almost hurts. “you know i’d be there if it was up to me.” but it wasn’t up to her, her dad was set on red and gold, and i get it. it isn’t just about family legacy, it truly is the best fit for her. her major, her future… and i wish i could fight on that, but i can’t.

i nod, swallowing, but it doesn’t make the feeling go away. i hate it—knowing she won’t be there, knowing i’ll be at uconn, and she’ll be halfway across the country. nai’s smart, she could’ve got a whole scholarship there if she applied, but it wasn’t meant to happen apparently.

“usc’s a top school, nai. you’re lucky. and we play each other a couple times a year, at least,” i add, like i’m convincing myself as much as her. i shoot her a small smile, but she just looks away, fiddling with the zipper on her backpack.

“doesn’t feel lucky,” she murmurs. “feels like the universe is messing with us or something.”

i lick my lips, letting the silence fall for a moment before i say, “tell me again about the dream,” while glancing over at her, because it never gets old, and i’m sure thinking about, talking about it would lighten the mood.

she shifts a little, giving me a quick look before they shoot back to the highway. “the w? or… something else?”

“the w, of course,” i say with a grin, though i know we’re both thinking about more than just that. we’ve been close since freshman year, figuring ourselves out is one way to put it. finding comfort in each other without ever daring to put a name to it. i’d jump at the opportunity if i had it in me. we’ve never talked about what it all means, the time we spend, the closeness, how it’s more than friends, no doubt, even if we don’t say it out loud.

her head lolls against the seat, hair shriveling up behind her, smiling a little now. “alright, so you’ll be running the league, ‘course, and i’ll be right there—scouting, managing, whatever it takes. you know i know more ball than you do,” she teases, and argue, because it’s true.

i laugh, shaking my head. “you know i always say that ‘cause i mean it.”

she rolls her eyes, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. “whatever.”

i shake my head, but I’m grinning, too, like i always am around her. “nah, i’m serious! you know more ball than all the girls, more than the coaches—even coach cos. you just get it.” i’d bet on nai being right there with me in the league one day, if that’s what she wants. i hope that’s what she’s really wants.

i know what i want. i know what i’ve wanted since i saw her for the first time. i want it all with her, i’ll make sure i get it too.

and maybe it’s selfish, but i’ve already made up my mind. i’ll make nailea mind before we graduate.

present day, may 2025.

it’s late, the kind of late where the building feels oddly empty, the silence thick enough that you can hear every creak and hum. the rest of the staff have been gone for hours, and i’m overworking myself, that’s for sure. my laptop’s blue light glows across the desk, and i’m on my last task, trying to shake the fatigue that settled in about an hour ago. it’s funny, in a way; this job was always part of the plan—a step towards something bigger, even if i didn’t know exactly what.

i’m deep in a report, head rested against my hand, eyes blurring a little as i stare at the screen, when i catch a shadow shifting by the door. i glance up, thinking it’s a security guard here to lock up for the night, but then i see who it is. paige.

my heart jumps, like muscle memory, and i immediately try to school my expression, keep it calm. why is she here? she’s got her hands in the pockets of her joggers, shoulders relaxed in that way that makes it look like she belongs anywhere she wants to be. but she doesn’t. not here, not at this hour, and especially not after what happened between us a few nights ago.

she smiles, one of the smug ones that show throughout her entire face, and i barely move, glancing up as she walks closer. “you really have nothing better to do than follow me around?” i raise an eyebrow as she reaches my desk, leaning over it to try and get a peak at my screen, but i shut it, and she settles back.

“the facility’s a little out your way, no?” i question, tilting my head. definitely out her way. cam had rambled a little too much about paige’s apartment, and i was sure of the exact spot by now.

paige shrugs, poking her lip out as she places her lanyard down, clearly getting comfortable. “sum’ like that. what, i can’t come see you now?”

her words make me squint, because she knows we aren’t on those terms, it’s just her way of steering around it—like she’s trying to navigate a minefield without acknowledging the bombs we’ve both set off. i swallow hard. “it’s a little unprofessional, don’t you think?”

“professional?” she scoffs, folding her arms and leaning against the desk. “last i checked, we’re not in a conference room, nai. just two friends catching up.” her head follows my movements as i begin to pack my things up. paige showing up was probably my cue. i’ve been here too long.

“friends?” i echo, the skepticism clear as i quirk a brow. “that’s rich.”

“then labeling me as some typa’ high school buddy is pretty poor,” she retorts, and i have to scarf down any out of pocket reaction i wanted to shoot at her. “guess so,” i reply.

paige’s expression shifts slightly, and there’s a moment of silence before she speaks up again. “can’t we pretend for a minute?”

i stop what i’m doing, sighing out, but i’m right back on it just as quick. i zip up my work back, leaning on my desk in the same way paige is. i don’t think i was ready to look at her, because for a minute, i’m tempted. i miss this. i miss her. the good parts. but i can’t forget. “you mean, like, before you cheated on me?”

the color drains from her face momentarily, like she didn’t expect me to say it so straight-up, and i realize that she’s probably used to me dancing around things, especially when it came to us. but i’m done dancing, done playing like we aren’t adults.

at least i thought i was. you know, it really was easy until i saw her. and i will be seeing her. everywhere.

“look, i—” she starts, but i cut her off.

“i’m not trying to rehash everything, paige. you’re the one who came here.”

she opens her mouth to respond, but no words come out. i can see her processing, the cockiness slipping from her as she shifts her weight back and forth on her feet, almost like she’s searching for the right words.

“i was working out late, too much on my mind,” she finally says, her voice softer. “you need a ride? how you gettin’ home?”

“my car,” i reply.

“liar.” she accuses. “lemme take you.”

i narrow my eyes at her in suspicion. “you’re so aggy. how do you know that?”

paige licks her lips, biting back a smile too. “maya told me you’ont got your car right now.”

i shift uncomfortably, tearing my eyes off of her and beginning to occupy myself, pulling open drawers and pretending to rummage through papers in a futile attempt to look busy. maya. “i didn’t know you and maya talked like that.”

paige shrugs nonchalantly. “she’s aight.”

i swipe my tongue over my bottom lip. “just alright?”

“she’s good,” she says, and for some reason good sounds even worse than alright, but i shouldn’t be prodding. whatever girl paige decides to involve herself with next shouldn’t concern me.

still, the questions slip uncontrollably, mouth moving faster than my fucking brain. “you two getting close?” i look up at her, jerking my head to the side to move a strand of hair out of my face.

paige seems to just love this, and she sizes me up with her eyes all seductively just then before responding. “would that bother you?”

i freeze for a moment, grappling with the unexpected rush of jealousy. why does it matter? why am i still feeling this way? “i just didn’t expect you to be hanging out with her,” i manage to say, and my voice is steady enough to conceal my thoughts. “seems… unexpected.”

“is it? ‘cause i thought we were both free to do whatever we want,” she says, leaning in slightly, her voice dipping low as if she’s letting me in on a secret. “especially since you’ve made it pretty clear how you feel about me.”

my breath falls short, but i hold up a poker face, and for a minute, we’re both just staring. trying to read into everything maybe, but i know i need to say something before i end up kissing her again.

or worse, bent over this office table.

“you’re right,” i say, perching up as i turn my chair away, getting up in a hurry. i stroll around as paige watches me, curiosity piqued, her eyebrows furrowed in that way i find oddly endearing.

i come up right next to her, and she looks down at me as i grab her keys, dangling them in front of her face. “that means you can take me home without trying anything. touching me.”

ubering this late was probably dangerous anyway, right?

the car ride is uncomfortably quiet, save for paige’s music filling her vehicle. it’s weird, i’ve never felt out of place with paige, but i do now, and it has everything to do with what she did. you know, when i found the texts, the pictures, the videos that still make me sick just thinking about it.

i’ve had time to blame myself. time to wonder if maybe i should’ve seen it coming. when we would argue, go on a break that only lasted for so long. i’d get suspicious, overthink, and then act out in ways i knew would set her off and drive her to say and do things she didn’t mean. they say toxicity is a two way street.

our trust was broken the minute distance became part of the equation. i was right about paige blowing up even more in college, but that only made it harder, made me wonder if this is what i signed up for—if i could handle it. there were some things i couldn’t ignore: her teammates’ livestreams, where i’d catch her in the background with some girl who looked a little bit too much like me, or the one time some random uconn student reached out to me about where where she’d been at, who she’d been with. it was like i was on the outside of the greatest inside joke, miles away, slowly losing my grip.

eventually, she pulls up in front of my apartment complex, the engine humming quietly as she shifts the car into park. i’m unbuckling my seatbelt when paige glances over, catching my eye for a moment, and there’s something there—maybe regret, maybe an apology she’ll never actually say. but whatever it is, it’s gone as quickly as it appeared. she clears her throat, her fingers tapping against the steering wheel to the rhythm of the song playing, like she’s trying to break the silence but doesn’t know how.

“you realize it’s been a month, right?” i break, and paige nearly jolts up at my voice, probably surprised it wasn’t something along the lines of, ‘thank you for the ride, bye.’ “like, we’re not together. so maybe this… maybe we just need to keep our distance.”

paige shakes her head, stubborn as always. “you know i ain’t tryna’ do that.”

i feel a knot tightening in my stomach as i brace myself against the door, wishing it would magically swing open and let me escape. “well do you have a better idea?” the last thing i want is to fall back into the old routine, and if setting some type of boundary is what it takes, i’ll do it. “because that kiss at cam’s was a mistake.”

paige chuckles, and i turn to look at her in attempt to figure out what’s so funny. “a mistake,” she repeats, running a hand down her face, but it isn’t a question. “don’t pull that card, nai. you wanted that shit just as bad as i did.”

my frustration rises. “no, i didn’t.” i’m stern, shaking my head and leaning a little more forward, invading her space. “because i knew you’d act like this.”

“act like what?” paige shoots back, her brows knitting together in anger and something else i can’t really place. i don’t really wanna know. “like i give a shit? you’re the one actin’ like i’m the problem here.”

“hello? you are the fucking problem!” i yell, the words spilling out before i can hold them back. i don’t mean it, i know it’s not only her, but that’s what a load of anger will make you say. “you think you can just charm your way back into my life whenever you feel like it, you get off on hurting me.”

paige’s jaw tightens, and for a moment, i see the hurt flicker across her face before she masks it with defiance. “yeah, well you make it easy,” she shoots back, and i’m taken aback, but i don’t show it. “you keep letting me back in, and then you act all surprised when i don’t just walk away.”

“i didn’t let you in,” i mock, squinting my eyes. “i kissed you ‘cause you fuckin’ begged for it,” i roll my eyes, and paige scoffs, head lolling against the seat.

“oh, and that was the only reason? you wanna play it off like it was some pity kiss? you’re full of shit, nai.” she spits, and i feel the emotion as her voice lowers towards the end.

i can’t help it. “literally fuck you, paige.” the words are clear, harsher than intended, and as we come face to face, inches apart, paige grips my jaw tightly, fingers sprawled out against it, head dropping, and i’m forced to stare at the sleekness of her bun. i’m not surprised as i keep my face tight, almost like i’m resisting without actually pulling away.

“you’re so fuckin’ full of it,” she whispers, breath fanning over my ear, and i wish i had the mental strength to push her off of me.

i shiver at her words, my body betraying me, but i refuse to let her see how much her proximity affects me. “don’t act like this is some game. we’re not—”

she cuts me off, fingers digging in just enough to make it sting, and she leans closer, her lips brushing against my cheek as she murmurs, “say you don’t want me then. just one word, baby. that’s it. and i’ll back off for good.”

a part of me would’ve told her to stop if she didn’t add the last two words. something sounded so final about it, so irrevocable final in a way i didn’t like. because another part of me never wanted to let paige bueckers go. that same part loves her with every fiber, no matter how insufferable she can get.

i open my mouth, the word “stop” right there, but it dies on my lips. instead, my breath hitches, my fingers curl into the fabric of her shirt, and before i know it, i’m leaning into her, pressing my mouth to hers.

she lets out a soft, almost relieved sigh as our lips meet, and whatever walls i had built are as good as none as her arms wrap around me, pulling me closer and over the center console. her kisses weren’t slow, she had no interest in savoring anything, but they were hungry. her hand slides further down my neck, gripping just tight enough to make me whimper.

i feel her fingers slip lower, brushing the edge of my waistband, but i grab her hand, holding it firmly as we keep kissing. “aht,” i mumble against her lips, and she groans softly, her frustration evident.

i bring her hand to settle on my thigh, and she squeezes it, pulling me even closer. “really can’t touch you, ma?” she murmurs through the kiss.

i nod, breathless as i pull back and attach my lips to her jawline, pressing and biting until i leave a mark. “said it,” i whisper, fingers spreading over her shoulder as i caress it. “meant it.”

her lips are parted as she takes me in, resists her hands, and my thoughts become dirtier by the second. everything else falls away for a second, but then her previously low eyes light up, flicking over my shoulder, and she screws her eyes shut, an exasperated sigh escaping her. “fuck, nai,” she mutters under her breath, barely audible. “i gotta go.”

i pull back. “go—what?” i scan her face, eyebrows furrowed. “who texted you?”

she hesitates, glancing to her carplay screen, but whatever message had popped up is already gone. she shakes her head, looking back at me, jaw clenched. “listen,” she says, her hand squeezing my thigh one last time, and i think it puts me in a trance. “if i call, you gon’ answer? need you to tell me you will.”

i bite down on my lip, confusion still stretched across my face, and i’m not sure if it’s just a heat of the moment thing, but i nod like it’s the most obvious answer in the world, even when i know i shouldn’t of.

[wcnderlnds]

i don't mind | peter maximoff

・❥・ summary: you're hungover and peter tries to take care of you in his own peter way ・❥・word count: 1.1k ・❥・warnings: alochol mentions, painkillers mention, maybe some swearing. ・❥・ authors note: bless my bestie @ldydeath for giving me the idea. she always comin' in clutch to help your girl. first peter fic in a week, i missed writing him (i say this as if its been a thousand years lmao)😭

Parties at the mansion were few and far between but when they did happen they were some of the wildest parties to ever take place. There was always too much alcohol involved causing people to either make the worst decisions. Like the time Scott thought the alcohol suddenly cured him (egged on by a snickering Peter) so he took off his glasses and blew a hole right through the wall into Professor Xavier’s office. Or the time Peter had convinced Kurt that he had a shot with Kitty so he went to try and make a move on her only to end up phasing through her and falling flat on his precious little face. Peter always seemed to be at the centre of everything because - thanks to his mutation - it took a lot for the alcohol to affect him so nine out of ten times he was usually always the most sober in the room. It wasn’t by choice because he definitely would be partaking in drunk shenanigans if he could. Instead, he just encouraged everyone else. That was Peter down to a tee – a bad influence but with his charm and wit he could always get away with it.

Last night’s party had taken its toll on you. That was completely Jean’s fault. She had dared you to do at least eight shots of Fireball in five minutes to catch up. You’d been late to the party due to finishing up one of your assignments for Logan’s class so she had insisted you catch up quickly. So, with the one brain cell you had left, you decided that was a great idea. It, in fact, was not. Once they hit, you were completely smashed, only worsened by the other drinks you kept finding in your hand through the night. To be honest, you weren’t even sure how you made it to your own bed but judging by the silver jacket wrapped around you, you guessed Peter had something to do with it.

Peter was your best friend, your best pal, the only person you would trust with your entire heart. Of course he was the one that had gotten you safely back to your room. Not that the others wouldn’t have but you knew he would have insisted it was him. Due to growing up with his mom and sisters, Peter always made sure the women in his life were taken care of. He would do anything for them and for you. He knew the kind of shitty things women had to deal with especially when it came to alcohol and being around other people so he just had to be the one to make sure you were safe. It always put his mind to rest. Not that his mind was ever really at rest. Trying to figure out what the hell was going on in Peter Maximoff’s brain at any given time was the world’s most unsolvable puzzle. Over the years you’d learn to never question him. It was best to go along with him – only calling him out when he said or did something utterly stupid which could be often.

With a groan, you rolled over, refusing to open your eyes just yet. Your head was already pounding with the massive hangover you were suffering with. The last thing you wanted was to be blinded by light. Instead, you snuggled into Peter’s jacket. His lingering scent making you smile. It was comforting to know that you always had him around to look after you even if he could be a pain in the ass.

“Wakey wakey, sleepyhead,” Peter’s voice rang out as he dashed into the room with a glass of water and painkillers in his hand. He placed them down on your bedside table opting to prod your cheek to try and wake you up. “Come oooooon. You can’t just bury yourself into my jacket like a hamster. I mean, I’m gonna need that back. Kind of my favourite jacket. Honestly, you should feel special that I even left it on your drunk ass. For all I know you could’ve puked all over it but that’s just the risk I take for our friendship, babe.”

“Peter? Shutup,” you sat up, finally opening your eyes to come face to face with your obnoxiously smiling best friend. “You talk too much.”

“Hey, the Prof said that to me this morning, too. Common consensus, huh? You should be used to it by now.” Without a care in the world, he jumped on the bed, stretching his legs out in front of him as he rested his head against the headboard, his hands behind his head. No shocker to anyone that he’d made himself at home without even asking. “Or is that pesky little hangover making you a big ol’ grumpy pants today?”

“I really hate the fact you don’t have to suffer like this.” Throwing the pills into your mouth, you swallowed them down with the water, settling back into bed. In a dramatic show of grumpiness, you threw your arm over your eyes to block any and all light out. “Wish I had the powers of transferring feelings so you could experience this torture.”

Peter laughed. If this was any other day, you’d probably be elated at the sound. You knew it was wrong to have a crush on your best friend but how could you not? With how he took care of you and always seemed so attentive to how you felt, it was hard not to fall in love with the silly speedster. Without even seeing it, you knew he was watching you with that fond, concerned expression on his face. It was confirmed when he gently pulled your arm from your eyes, sliding his hand into yours and lacing your fingers together. It was a simple gesture but it brought a smile to your face.

“Just to clarify, me holding your hand doesn’t, like, mean anything. Not in that way. I mean… unless you want it to. That’s cool. I don’t mind. Just trying to be here for my very hungover friendorino,” Peter rambled, his soft eyes still gazing at you. He really did have the most expressive eyes. It was impressive how he could express a simple emotion by just looking at you. 

Snuggling into him, you brought your joined hands around you so he was holding you instead and laid your head on his chest. If he could get comfy then you could too. “Let’s just lay here for the rest of the day and we can unpack that statement later but… for the record, I don’t mind either.”

taglist (ask to be added or removed!): @ldydeath @jazz-berry @lemoniiiiiii @honeymoon8 @bohnerrific69 @lacucarachapisser @evanpetersbf

[creamflix]

toji fushiguro x reader; no reader gender implied. heavyyyy angst, no comfort. artist! toji + reader. flashbacks. one-sided love, remincising. — masterlist here ☆

"always the artist, never the muse."

toji fushiguro clung to those words like a lifeline, like an apology he muttered to himself when he was alone in his room, staring at a blank page that haunted him as much as it inspired him.

they said he was a fuckboy, playboy supreme, the kind of guy who’d leave you breathless and forgotten in the same night.

and maybe that was true.

maybe it was easier that way, easier to keep everyone at arm’s length when the one person he couldn’t forget had slipped through his fingers.

it had been five years since he’d met you.

a random train ride home, him half-asleep, you sitting across with a sketchbook open on your lap.

he couldn’t take his eyes off you, the way you were so lost in what you were creating, your pencil dancing across the page. when you caught him staring, he felt a flicker of embarrassment, quickly masked by his usual, easy grin.

“what’re you drawing?” he’d asked, trying to sound casual.

you looked up, eyes widening in surprise, and for a moment, he thought he saw a hint of amusement there.

“just a study,” you replied, lifting your sketchbook to show him — a messy, half-finished sketch of a figure in motion. “still working on it.”

he leaned closer, catching the faint scent of your perfume, his eyes scanning the lines, the shadow work. “you’re pretty damn good,” he murmured, almost to himself.

a smile tugged at the corners of your lips. “thanks,” you said softly. “not often someone notices.”

he felt something tighten in his chest. “well, i noticed.”

you laughed, and he thought it was the best sound he’d ever heard.

“are you an artist too?” you asked, tilting your head, genuinely curious.

he scratched the back of his neck, hesitating. “yeah, kinda. i don’t really…talk about it.”

“why not?” your voice had been so soft, so damn sincere. “art’s meant to be shared, right?”

he’d paused, the words catching in his throat.

it wasn’t that simple, wasn’t something he could just share.

not with everyone.

but with you… it had felt different.

“maybe,” he’d muttered, more to himself than to you, “just… maybe.”

he hadn’t wanted that ride to end.

he could have listened to you talk about art supplies and your favorite brushes and the little frustrations of the creative process all day.

he remembered every word.

“do you ever feel like it’s never enough? like no matter what you draw, there’s always something missing?”

he’d nodded, knowing exactly what you meant. “yeah, all the time.”

and then your stop came.

the universe’s cruel timing, forcing you to leave when he wanted to ask for your name, your number, anything to make sure this wouldn’t be the last time. but he’d held back, let the fear of seeming too eager or desperate paralyze him.

“guess this is me,” you’d said, standing up, and he’d caught the faintest hint of a sigh in your voice. “it was nice talking to you…?”

“toji,” he’d replied, voice rougher than he intended.

“nice talking to you, toji.” you gave him a little wave, stepping out of the train, disappearing into the crowd, and he’d watched you go, something hollow taking root in his chest.

“damn it,” he’d muttered to himself, gripping the seat as the train pulled away.

five years later, he was still cursing himself, wishing he’d just called after you, asked you to wait, to stay, anything to keep you from walking away. he’d gone through more meaningless flings than he could count since then, and yet none of them mattered, none of them filled the space you’d left behind.

in his studio, his fingers hovered over the page, pencil poised to draw yet another sketch of you. he could see you so clearly in his mind — the way your eyes had lit up when you talked about art, the little smile tugging at your lips when he’d asked too many questions.

sometimes he could still hear your voice.

“do you ever wonder if the right people just… pass us by?”

he’d scoffed, tried to brush it off, but that question haunted him.

yes. god, yes, he wondered.

every damn day.

he spent hours drawing your face from memory, perfecting every curve, every expression, capturing the moments that never happened, the smiles he’d never seen, the touches he’d never felt.

“what’s wrong with me?” he muttered to himself, rubbing a hand over his face. why can’t i just let you go?

he’d even tried to find you once, scouring social media for any trace of you, looking for artists who matched your style.

but you’d disappeared as completely as you’d arrived, like a dream he couldn’t wake up from.

in his mind, you were still that girl on the train, sketchbook in hand, eyes so bright they made him feel like a kid again, excited and scared all at once.

he could never shake the feeling that he’d missed something, that maybe if he’d just held on a little tighter, you’d still be there, a part of his life instead of a ghost haunting his art.

and now, he was stuck.

“always the artist, never the muse,” he whispered, tracing the lines of your face on his sketchpad. it was all he had left — endless drawings, memories of things that had barely even happened, a handful of words exchanged on a crowded subway.

he slammed his sketchbook shut, the familiar ache tightening his chest. you were gone, a stranger he’d never known, a muse he’d never have, and he had no one to blame but himself.

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[m00nl1ghts1vt]

You Like Me? II - Matt Sturniolo

Read First - You Like Me? Pairings - bsf!Matt x bsf!Reader Summary - The morning after Matt confesses his feelings for you, he's sober and remembers everything from the night before. Warnings - Strong language, making out, mentions of alcohol use, suggestiveness, fluff, lil bit of angst W/c - 1479 A/n - I got a couple requests to write a second part so here it is!! I hope everyone likes it ❤️ Tags - @lvrsturniolo @thepubeburgler @unknvhx @ribread03 @m11rx @emely9274 (I believe I got all the tags, if I missed anyone comment below!!) Masterlist City of Love. Part 2. - current series

The morning sun beamed through the curtains, making Matt toss and turn. It had been hours since his confession. Your brain didn’t let you get a wink of sleep, you were up contemplating your next move. You didn’t know if he was completely shitfaced or if he was being serious when he told you he had feelings for you. You knew you needed answers, though. 

Knowing Matt wouldn’t be awake a couple more hours, you kick the covers off of your body, rising to your feet, and making your way to the hallway bathroom. You try to ease your panicked mind by splashing water in your face, standing there for a while before you hear a light knock on the door. 

“Y/n/n?” Matt’s voice sounds quietly from the other side. The familiar lump lodges itself in your throat, making it hard to talk, “y-yea?”

“You okay?” he croaks out, concern laced through his words. You don’t give your thoughts any time to collect themselves before you swing the bathroom door open. Matt stands there with a sympathetic look stuck on his face. His eyes told you he was one hundred percent sober and remembered everything from the previous hours. 

“Morning,” you give him a small smile before sneaking past him. You needed him to tell you why he had been keeping a huge secret like that from you for so long but facing him only made you want to run and hide. This whole time he’s known you, he’s liked you? You weren’t mad over the fact that he had feelings for you. You were pissed he didn’t have the balls to tell you. You always vowed to keep zero secrets in your friendship, so it felt like betrayal. 

‘Hey,” he calls out as you turn the corner to his bedroom. You can hear his bare feet hitting the ground as he picks up his pace to reach you. Once he appears in the doorway of his bedroom, his body brings him to a halt, “are you, like, mad I told you?” You watch as he scratches the back of his neck in a nervous manner. Matt lets his eyes bounce around the room, almost like a child not wanting to look their discipliner in the eyes. You let out a sign, knowing it was stupid to be mad at a sweet face like that, “no, I’m mad you didn’t tell me.”

“Sorry,” he runs a hand through his hair, “I thought it was obvious.” It was very clear Matt was no longer drunk. His words weren't slurred, and his face told you he was fighting a mean hangover. You felt bad but one hangover wasn’t nearly enough of an excuse. He had been hiding his true feelings for over a year. 

You couldn’t keep that big of a secret from him if you tried and it made you wonder if you really even knew Matt. “I don’t know how you’d think that, Matt,” you sit on his bed, knitting your brows together, and crossing your arms over your chest.

Watching as Matt fidgets, picking at the skin on his fingers, “I don’t know. I guess I just did,” he lets his head hang low, not meeting your eyes once.

“Matt,” you keep your tone soft, convincing him to look at you, “come sit with me.” You pat the seat next to you and he reluctantly moves towards the bed, making sure not to sit too close. Sighing at him, “I just wish you would’ve told me sooner.”

In the last year and a half, Matt had seen you with numerous hookups and random tinder dates, and you told him about all of it. You were a very detailed person, so you made sure your best friend knew everything. It wasn’t just letting him know how it went, you told him if the sex was good, you told him if you liked the guy or not. Thinking back on it, the only detail Matt was really interested in was if you were going to be seeing the guy again. Your answer was always no, nobody sparked your interest enough to keep them around. Unlike Matt who definitely did the first time you met him. You were always into Matt, but you had never known a man not to make the first move on you. So, when Matt didn’t initiate anything more than a friendship, you kept it at that, not wanting to force the idea of a hookup or anything more on him.

“I was going to, but I didn’t know how,” he keeps his gaze fixated on his feet. Finally clearing his throat, “by the time I got the courage to, we had been friends for a while. I don’t know, I figured you weren’t into me like that,” he rambles on, not letting his eyes meet yours. Redness shows on your face, “I mean when we first met, yeah.” 

Your words make Matt pick his head up. His eyes meet yours and he opens his mouth to speak, “but not now?” You could tell by the tender look on his face that your next words were going to make or break him. You suck in a breath, “I didn’t say that Matt.” His face twists in disapproval of your words, “then what are you saying?” his voice comes out a bit stronger than before.

“I’m saying you should’ve told me you liked me when you met me or made a move. You could’ve given me a hint, but you hid it from me instead. That’s bullshit Matt,” your words spewing out like venom. Matt opens his mouth to talk but you hold a finger up, “a year and a half! We’re best fucking friends! You could’ve flirted with me, you could’ve told me, Matt. Fuck, you could’ve kissed me, and I wouldn’t have-,” before you have the chance to lecture him anymore, Matt gets the sudden courage to press his lips to yours softly. Your rambling being the main encouragement for him. His lips move against your slowly, like he’s savoring every millisecond. Matt had been waiting so long for this exact moment. His hands travel up your thighs to pull you closer to him, all while his head spins from having you so close, closer than you’ve ever been before. 

Matt taking control of the kiss told you how desperate he was for it to happen. It was out of character for him to take the lead in any situation. Matt trails his tongue across the bottom of your lip, and you allow him access. The slow and sensual kiss rapidly turns into a heated one as your tongues fight for dominance against each other. It seems like hours before you decide you don't want to take it too far too soon, pulling away from his lips and staring up at him. His flustered expression matches yours.

You watch as he gazes at you, his eyes filled with passion. Suddenly, it seemed like you and Matt switched places, leaving you nervous and him more confident than ever. You suck in a breath, “I didn’t know you were such a good kisser.”

“There’s lots you don’t know about me, Y/n/n,” a sly grin pulls at his lips, and he tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “And I’d tell you everything if you’d let me,” his tone was convincing like he was trying to persuade you somehow. Matt didn’t know you had already made your mind up when he was passed out cold next to you - you wanted more than a friendship with Matt.

"I do have one question," you blurt out. There were so many questions burning a hole through your brain. His confession had your mind spinning in loops, and the kiss only made it more surreal. Matt raises his eyebrows, telling you to continue, "what did you mean when you said it was your plan, that everyone knew?"

Your question makes heat flow to his cheeks, "It was obvious, Y/n. They figured it out a couple months in." It made sense, they knew him better than anyone else.

"Well, you didn't have to get completely shitfaced just to tell me," you tease at him. Your mood was a lot more playful now that you and Matt talked it out. It felt like a million pounds had been lifted off your shoulders as soon as he kissed you.

A smirk pulls at Matt's lips as his face goes back to its original color, "liquid courage," he tells you, shrugging.

You let out a giggle, a laugh from him following quickly after, "next time I want to know your secrets, I'm feeding you Tito's all night long." Hearing the name of the liquor makes Matt's head throb, "never again," he groans before letting his body fall back onto the mattress.

[cabinetofquriosities]

Love on the Brain

Agathario AU: Singer and Roadie

Warnings: Smut

Listen while reading!

Find the complete playlist here.

——————————————————————

Rio Vidal’s career had exploded in the past five years after working towards it her entire life. She was now in her mid thirties and riding the high of being an established phenomenon. She toured too much to hold a consistent relationship, but her tour crew became her people. One such person was a newer roadie named Agatha who had joined on the previous tour.

Rio had found herself noticing the woman more and more. She had something of a flair to her even when just in a band shirt and black jeans with her long hair messily tied up. Though she got along well enough with everyone, her brash attitude and humor caught some of them off guard. It only endeared Rio to her, making her snort-laugh whenever she said anything cutting. The two had become friendly, with the both of them still keeping a bit of distance from one another for reasons they couldn’t quite explain.

When the new tour began, Rio led by asking for Agatha back. Her manager, Jen, seemed surprised at the request.

“Agatha?!” Jen asked, “Like, Agatha, Agatha?”

“I don’t think we know any other Agathas.”

“Sorry, I just- I mean, she can be a little much sometimes. I don’t know if she fits with the rest of the crew…”

“I like her,” Rio said simply, “She’s funny.”

“She threatened to set me on fire with the pyrotechnics.”

“She didn’t go through with it, though.”

“That cannot be where the bar is,” Jen deadpanned.

“Please. I want her on tour with us,” Rio said, reaching over and taking her hand, “I will make sure she doesn’t set you on fire.”

Jen sighed, folding for her employer and close friend.

“Fine. But I’m not sleeping on the same bus as her.”

“Feel free to take the other bus and snuggle up with Alice in the bus’s private bedroom…” Rio said with a smirk.

“Huh… didn’t think about that solution.”

“See? Silver lining.”

The first day of the tour came and Rio treated everyone to a night out on the town to kick everything off. They ended up in a club where they took up a good part of the dance floor. Rio gravitated toward Agatha, the other woman with her hair down for once.

“Hey, what are you drinking?” Rio asked.

“Martini.”

“Dirty?”

“Always.”

“Let me get you another,” Rio said before giving the bartender the order along with a tequila shot for herself.

“Thanks,” Agatha said, taking her drink, “I appreciate you hiring me back. I know I didn’t exactly make the best impression with Jen.”

Rio smiled and made a little wave at the mention of her.

“Don’t worry about Jen. I love her, but she can be a little judgmental with new people.”

“Well, I’ll try to be a little…” Agatha cringed before saying, “Nicer.”

“No you won’t,” Rio said with a fond laugh.

“No, I won’t,” Agatha replied with a smile.

The two drank together for a while before Agatha took her hand, pulling her out to the dance floor as Suavemente played. Rio could barely think with the touch of Agatha’s hand in hers as she danced. She spun Rio and pulled her in, their bodies close. They moved together with Agatha leading. She was impressed at how good Agatha was, handling Rio in a way that left her breathless.

At one point, Agatha and Rio found their eyes locked on the other’s. Both seemed a little terrified at the intensity of the moment. In that instant, both seemed to be realizing the same thing. Rio froze while Agatha’s chest thudded with her heartbeat.

“I should get some sleep,” Agatha blurted out before turning around and abruptly leaving.

Rio almost called for her, almost followed her out, but was stopped when Jen and Alice interrupted.

“What the hell was that?” Jen asked, her head cocked.

“What was what? We were just dancing..”

“That wasn’t ’just’ anything,” Alice said with a smile.

“Don’t encourage this!” Jen said to Alice.

“There’s nothing to encourage!” Rio said with a groan.

“That look you both had says there is,” Alice said.

“Okay, okay, I’m going to bed,” Rio said with a sigh.

“Rio, you don’t have t-“ Jen said, regretting her harshness.

“I’m okay, Jen. I want to be rested for tomorrow. Big day and all that. Make sure everyone’s drinks are paid for and that everyone is on the bus by 2.”

“Alright. Rest up. Drink some water,” Jen said, hugging her.

Rio walked out before Alice said, “I think they’re cute.”

Jen rolled her eyes before pulling Alice to the dance floor.

Agatha had stripped out of her clothing and was left in her sweat shorts and tank top. She finished brushing her teeth when she heard the door close. She looked out and saw Rio come on. Rio took her hair down and walked past. She looked back at Agatha. Agatha tried to avoid her eye, giving Rio the message to leave her alone.

“See you tomorrow. Sleep tight,” she said.

“You too,” Agatha simply said.

Rio walked into her private room in the back and closed the door. Her mind swirled with everything she had been feeling. The look in Agatha’s eyes haunted her as she drifted off to sleep, drawing out emotions she thought she would never feel for someone.

She had never been good at relationships. She was always half in since she felt like she was performing with them the way she did for her fans. With Agatha, it felt different. Something inside of her relaxed when she was around. She groaned just before falling asleep when she realized it.

She was in love with Agatha Harkness.

Fuck.

She had not signed up for love.

Agatha was off the bus by the time Rio woke up. The two stole glances at each other throughout the day, one looking away when the other saw them.

“You didn’t seal the deal last night?” Alice asked Agatha as they carried a speaker to the edge of the stage.

“Seal the what now?” Agatha asked with an arched brow.

“With Rio. Don’t worry, I won’t tell. I mean, Jen and I got together on a tour a few years back. The road just makes people closer.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Agatha said, looking away.

“Okay, then. Don’t make her wait too long. Rio doesn’t show interest often.”

Agatha didn’t need reminders that Rio was notoriously single, never staying with a woman longer than a night. Agatha had also been fiercely independent, having been married years ago before it all fell apart after their fifth anniversary. No, Rio didn’t see her that way.

“What do you mean ‘nothing happened’?!” Jen asked loudly with an indignant tone.

“Keep your voice down- I thought you’d be relieved,” Rio said.

“I mean, yeah, but I’m more confused. Did she shoot you down?”

“No.. I didn’t really… I just went to bed. And told her to sleep tight,” she said, cringing at her own failure.

“Oh no,” Jen said, her eyes widening.

“What?”

“You’ve got it bad bad. She triggered a useless lesbian response.”

“Useless lesbian?”

“Gay panic. You couldn’t make a move because you like her too much. Shit, of course it would be her…” Jen sighed, “Sometimes I hate it when Alice is right.”

“I don’t… I didn’t… I mean… it would be wrong to pursue anything with her, right?”

“You’re worried about a power imbalance with Agatha Harkness? That woman doesn’t let anyone have the upper hand. She’ll be fine.”

“I thought you didn’t like her…”

“I don’t. She’s an asshole. But I also haven’t seen you like this since high school when you dated Carol. It’s been twenty years. If someone is finally making you feel this way again… well, I will unhappily support you.”

Rio laughed softly before saying, “While I appreciate that, I don’t think she wants anything to do with me. She won’t even look at me.”

“She won’t STOP looking at you. She just doesn’t when you aren’t. Just do yourself a favor and shoot your shot. Okay?”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Don’t think too long. The tour doesn’t need this level of yearning,” Jen said before walking off.

The show that night went perfectly. The arena was packed and every number went according to plan. Rio soaked in the adrenaline. Performing was like a drug to her. It fueled her. Coming back after a few months felt like recharging her system.

She thanked the roaring audience wearing a bodysuit that was dripping with diamonds, her hair slicked back. She walked offstage, hugging and thanking her crew as she went to greet fans by the tour bus. After an hour of signing autographs and talking with overexcited teenage girls, she walked to her bus.

She walked to her room, closing the door behind her. She was still smiling, still feeling the high of the show running through her veins. A knock sounded at her door. She opened it up and found Agatha there.

“Hey,” Agatha said a bit awkwardly.

“Hi…” Rio said, “What’s up?”

“Jen told me you needed me?”

“Oh,” Rio said, reminding herself to thank Jen later, “Yeah. Uh, come in.”

Agatha stepped inside as Rio closed the door.

“The show was amazing,” Agatha said, a nervous smile showing, somehow making Rio love her even more in that moment.

“Thanks. You guys did great with all of the setups.”

“So.. what was it you needed to see me about?” Agatha asked, unable to stop her eyes from raking down the deep V cut of the bodysuit that plunged down Rio’s front.

“I.. just wanted to make sure you were alright… after last night. You seemed… like I made you uncomfortable.”

“No! No, you didn’t,” Agatha hastily answered, “I promise.”

“Okay, good,” Rio sighed with relief.

“Was… that all?”

“Well… could you actually help me with this?” She asked, pointing at the back of her suit.

Agatha’s face flushed before she said, “Sure, of course.”

It felt like a special type of torture as they stood before a full length mirror, Agatha’s fingers pulling down her zipper. Rio took a deep breath, her heart racing as the fabric loosened and fell apart. She was left in her underwear. Both women looked at each other through their reflection.

Rio suddenly turned, standing face to face with Agatha. Agatha reached out, cupping her face in her hands. Rio leaned into her touch, gazing into Agatha’s blue eyes. Her hand reached up and gripped her wrist as if using it to steady herself.

“Would it just be a night?” Agatha breathed.

Rio slowly shook her head, hoping it wouldn’t freak the other woman out.

“Good,” Agatha replied.

They closed the space between them, their lips colliding in a slow kiss. They took their time at first, refusing to come up for air while their tongues danced around one another. As the electricity grew between them, their movements became more frantic, more charged.

Rio pulled Agatha’s shirt up and off, finding nothing underneath. Agatha was already kicking her jeans off before she lost balance and fell back onto the bed. She was about to get back up when Rio was suddenly crawling over her like a panther.

Rio looked at her, her eyes moving down to her breasts. She dove down, wrapping her lips around her nipple, grinding her tongue against it. Agatha drew in a sharp gasp, her back arching off of the mattress. Rio moved to the other breast, her dark eyes locked onto her.

Agatha reached down and gripped Rio’s ass, digging her nails in. The other woman let out a feral moan that activated something in her. In one swift motion, Agatha rolled them over, topping Rio. Her long hair fell over her neck in a curtain as she looked down at her.

Rio was so used to people assuming she was a top that Agatha’s move completely took her by surprise. It stoked the fire in her chest, making her need this woman more than she thought was possible.

“Fuck me,” she whispered.

“Oh,” Agatha said, gripping her chin in her hand, “I intend to.”

Agatha reached down, rubbing Rio over the lace of her panties. Rio sucked in a sharp breath as her entire body came to attention for Agatha. The woman had complete control over her with just a little touch.

“Mm… you soaked through your panties…”

Agatha pulled her underwear down her waist and legs, moving down between her thighs. She kissed up her form and wrapped her arms around her thighs. She ran her tongue along her slit before finding her clit. Soft whimpers left Rio’s lips as Agatha toyed with her.

She slid her tongue inside of her, yanking her closer by her thighs. Rio’s hands clutched the sheets. She stared at her new favorite view of Agatha’s head between her legs. Agatha let go of one leg before using her free hand to tease her. She slid two fingers into Rio, causing her toes to curl.

“Fuck! Yes..” Rio gasped.

Agatha’s tongue circled and swiped over her clit. She sucked while thrusting into her, crooking them against the most sensitive spot of hers. It didn’t take long for Rio’s pleasure to build. She gasped and moaned as her cunt strangled Agatha’s hand. Agatha watched her as she stroked and licked her through her climax. Agatha had a wicked smile on her lips. She moved up her form, nipping and biting everywhere she could reach.

She moved to straddle her chest, moving up onto her knees. She looked down at Rio, saying, “Now, show me what a good girl you are.”

Agatha grabbed the headboard and lowered herself onto Rio’s face. Agatha’s dominance was intoxicating. Rio found herself wanting her approval along with her pleasure. She ran her hands up her thighs as her tongue explored her. Agatha let out a soft moan at the sensation.

Rio’s hands settled on her ass, gripping and slapping it as she wrapped her lips around her clit. Agatha’s moan tore from her mouth at the slap. Rio would have smiled to herself if her mouth wasn’t full. She slapped her a few more times, noticing how wet she became with each strike.

Agatha looked down at her as she rolled her hips. She reached down, running a hand through Rio’s hair. Her breathing quickened and her heart raced. Her moans rose in pitch until they stopped altogether. Her mouth opened in a silent scream as Rio drank her arousal. She caught her breath, looking down at her and saying, “Good girl.”

She moved off of her and laid beside her. Rio surged forwards and kissed Agatha, her lips covered in her. The two women pulled back to look at one another. Rio smiled softly and played with the ends of Agatha’s hair. Agatha gazed into her eyes until her own closed. She snuggled into Rio, the dominant woman suddenly cuddly in her sleep. Rio ran her fingers through her long hair until she drifted off with her.

[petriwriting]

Amortentia - Theodore Nott X Reader

Summary: Learning about amortentia in class

“And with the correct blend of ingridients, does anyone know what is created?” Professor snape asks in his brass tone. A hufflepuff girl raises her hand very hesitantly. “Yes?” He points to to the girl with a gesture. “It’s a live potion.” She says tenderly. “Correct.” Snape retorts, before awarding hufflepuff house a whole 5 points.

You and Theo are standing next to each other, curiously gazing at the cauldron that’s emitting a pink glow very curiously. “The two of you,” professor snape gestures again. You and Theo are first in disbelief, but then you each step forward. “One at a time, I want you to lean forward and describe to me the distinct scent of this potion.” He says.

“Yes professor,” you say. “I’ll go first.” Theodore says. She leans forward into the cauldron, and a pleasant scent fills his senses. “It’s like,” he pursed his lips in thought before continuing. “Lavendar… Cloves, and fresh rain.” He says finally.

“Very well, your turn ms/mr L/N.”

You step forward just has Theodore had, and take a moment to inhale. “. . .It’s warm, it smells like a campfire, cedar… and lemongrass, old books, tobacco.” It was an odd but unique mix that was comforting, familiar almost.

“Does anyone know why Mr. Nott and Mr/Ms L/N are picking up these particular scents?” Professor snape asks. Expecting someone to answer. You step forward after a bit of awkward silence. For a brilliant potions master, he could sure be intimidating sometimes. You could recall from this last lecture; “The scents are whatever the person thinks to be attractive or alluring.” You explain. Professor snape nods. “Excellent.” He cooes.

Your house is awarded 10 points. The remainder of the class felt like a blur, you were tired less engaged during the second half of the class, though when dismissed you were finally able to sigh in relief.

Theodore, whom had been your best friend since your first year noticed the shift in your mood. “You okay?” He says, packing his satchel with his potion making tools for class, his textbook and notes. “Yeah, just tired is all.” You said quietly, gathering your things as well.

“Maybe you can get some rest this afternoon then.” Theodore offered gently. He had always been kind to you in that way. “Maybe.” You lean back putting your hands on the table, brushing theo’s hand which was already there.

Although this was an accident you felt a jolt of energy and your heart began to race. The busy classroom died down until it was just the two of you standing there in an empty classroom. He didn’t move his hand. You smiled softly.

He caught your eyes, his gaze was soft and he slowly leaned in, taking a auick peek at your lips. You did the same until your faces were inches apart.

You would have totally kissed. If it were the poor kid who forgot his book who came back into the classroom. You each pulled away slightly as the student uttered a quick “so sorry.” And rushed back outside.

You and theo chuckled. You liked being so close to him. You could smell that funny scent from the potion from the first part of class start to fill your senses, campfire… cedar… lemongrass… old books… tobacco. You brushed it off, thinking maybe it was some coincidental thing. Or a mind trick. But professor snap had did away with the cauldron and the concoction already… it was strange. You were rattled in thoughts.

“Well, I ought to get going.” Theodore said. “Meet me outside common room tonight, 8 O’clock, and we’ll chat then. Yeah?” He offered. You were still enamored with yourself. “Yeah, Yeah that sounds great.”

“I’ll see you then.” Theodore said slowly making his way away. It took you a few seconds before you realized what was happening. The scent was there when you were about to kiss him, it wasn’t just the cauldron.. and you thought back to when you had answered professor snape. It hit you all at once in a sudden moment, you facepalmed and laughed in disbelief at yourself. It’s smells like whatever is attractive for you, it smells like someone you love… And you were in love, oh Merlin were you in love.

What you did not consider, was what Theodore was thinking. And how you were wearing lavender and clove scented perfume that day.

[httpkaulitz]

Say yes to me

PAIRINGS: Demon Bill x Female reader

CONTENT: Smutt

SYNOPSIS: Halloween is a perfect day to collect a soul.

WARNINGS: dom!Bill, sub!reader, mention of drugs and drinking, mention of stalking, mention of blood and bite, manipulation, unprotected sex, p in v, public sex.

A/N: I'm late for Halloween, but here's Demon Bill that I've been promising for ages.

Halloween parties were the perfect excuse to dress up in a scary, sexy outfit and get drunk. Most people went to parties just to get completely drunk and make out with masked strangers. And you were no different.

The general aesthetic appealed to you, since you've always liked dark things. Your best friend had gotten tickets to this super exclusive party, you didn't know how, but you didn't really care about knowing, since she probably sucked someone's dick to get it.

As soon as you stepped foot in the place you realized how luxurious it was. The old mansion had at least three floors and the backyard was huge. The whole place was impeccably decorated and there were lots of red lights scattered around the place, giving it a devilish and lustful atmosphere.

The loud music reverberated throughout the place and the people around were dancing, their bodies glued together almost in sync. You had to blink a few times to avoid being caught mesmerized by the scene.

You've been to a lot of Halloween parties, a lot of them. But none of them had ever been so perfect. You couldn’t describe it, it wasn’t just the decorations or the perfectly dressed people. It was a feeling. A mix of danger and adventure that you couldn’t explain why you were feeling.

“I told you to come dressed up.” Your friend suddenly shouted, jumping up next to you. She was clearly already half drunk, with a glass of drink in her hand.

“I’m dressed up!” You said, indignant at her not-so-subtle way of saying you were poorly dressed.

She looked me up and down and pointed her finger at you before speaking. “A black dress and a witch’s hat isn’t really a costume.”

She was right, the people in this place were dressed up like they were in a million dollar competition to see who would win the prize for best costume. Some were so good they looked real.

Your friend had somehow managed to come up with a realistic enough costume that it didn’t look like she’d just picked something improvised like you.

“Well, if I’d known it would be like this I would have rented something.” You said as you observed the people around you.

“It doesn’t matter now. Come on, I want to show you something.” She grabbed your wrist and pulled you back outside.

You followed her to the back of the tent and saw a huge tent set up. There was a small line of people and she stopped right behind the last one.

“What is that?” You asked confused.

“It’s a seer!” She said excitedly. “Can you believe it? They also made a horror maze on the third floor.” Well, that was cool, you didn’t understand why she was so excited about the seer.

“Why are you so excited about this?” You asked as you watched her. Your friend had never been one to believe in that kind of thing.

To be honest, neither did you. Yes, you always liked the idea of ​​mythological and supernatural beings existing, but it was kind of impossible for everything to be real.

She looked at you with a look of “you’re being silly.” And then said, “If real gypsies exist, they would definitely be here. Haven’t you ever heard of the party hosts?”

Of course you had heard of them. A millionaire and somewhat eccentric family who are passionate about the supernatural. Every year they throw a Halloween party, so uniquely extraordinary that everyone wants to attend. After the parties, there were always rumors of people who had supernatural experiences. In your opinion, these people were either very drunk or on drugs.

“So what? Are you going to ask about the future or something?” Just as your friend was about to answer you, the person in front of you gave up on entering, giving you and your friend the chance.

The two of you looked at each other for a few seconds and then went in. It was exactly as you expected. Dim lighting, some crystals and incense. The woman was sitting on the other side of the table and your friend ran to sit in the chair across from her.

You waited, standing a little ways away, while your friend held the woman's hand and asked stupid questions like "Is Johnny going to break up with Camila to be with me?" You had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes. Seriously, she could at least ask something useful like the lottery numbers.

After that, you stopped paying attention, but it wasn't long before her time was up and it was your turn. Not that you really wanted to participate, but your friend was kind of forcing you.

You held out your hand for her to hold and stared at her. "I don't really have anything to ask." You said nervously, feeling like you were wasting her time.

"You don't have to." She frowned as if trying to understand the situation. "I see something with you, a shadow that follows you."

"Maybe it's that guy who appears in your dreams." Your friend said laughing.

You quickly looked at her and muttered "Shut up." You didn't want this woman to gather any information to even try to get into your head.

But she didn't seem to pay attention to what you and your friend were saying. She was very focused on you, almost hypnotized. "It's always with you, watching you and guiding your path."

Your friend butted in again, now looking even more excited. "So what? Does she have a guardian angel?"

"I would say it's the opposite." The woman answered automatically and let go of your hand.

"What?" You asked confused.

"Don't say yes to him." She said firmly, looking scared.

"To who?" Nothing she said made sense. Was she trying to scare you or what?

"Next!" She turned and faced the two of you, waiting for you to leave.

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You and your friend had no idea what had really happened in the tent, but you decided to believe that it was some kind of marketing ploy so that the two of you would leave the party saying that you had had a supernatural experience.

You decided that after that you needed a drink and a little dancing to forget all of this. But now more than ever you felt watched. Even dancing in the middle of the crowd you felt like you were in a spotlight with eyes completely focused on you.

You felt hands grip your hips tightly, even without seeing who it was you didn't care. It was a welcome distraction. His body danced in sync with yours, as if you were one.

Sweat was dripping down your neck and the multicolored lights were making you feel a little dizzy. You closed your eyes and leaned your head back on the stranger's shoulder. His hands released your hips, he brushed your hair away from your face and then slid his hands down your arms, down your back, and finally back to your hips. When you heard the voice whispering in your ear, "Come find me." You jumped away. When you looked back, there was no one there.

You decided that you should leave the dance floor, maybe all these lights and people together were making your head confused. Since you hadn't seen the other rooms of the party besides the first floor yet, you decided to go up. The second floor was kind of an extension of the first, except that it was much darker than the first floor and there were some platforms with people dancing in almost animalistic costumes that made them look half human, half animal.

At this point, you had no idea where your friend was. Your head was a mess, but you refused to believe the nonsense that strange woman told you. You went to the stairs and went up to the third floor.

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You didn't remember how you ended up inside the maze, all you remembered was a man dressed as a mad scientist giving you a neon green drink to drink.

The endless corridors and colorful lights were starting to make your head spin. There was nothing or no one around, it was just corridors and more empty corridors, you could even hear your footsteps as you walked aimlessly.

You were sure you were lost and your paranoid mind wasn't helping you. When you turned around in the hopes of being able to follow the same path and find the door you came in through, all you saw was a huge wall.

“No, no, no.” You said exasperatedly as you touched the wall to confirm that it was real. But how could that be real? You had just passed by there.

For the first time you heard footsteps that weren’t yours, but when you looked around there was no one.

“Hello, is anyone there?” You shouted but no one answered, the only sound you heard was the echo of your voice and the footsteps that now seemed faster as if they were running.

A small feeling of panic and urgency took over you and you ran. You couldn’t say for sure what it was, maybe it was paranoia or instinct. You felt like you had to get out of there, you knew that finding whoever was the owner of those footsteps wouldn’t be a good thing.

You continued running through the maze without knowing exactly where you were going, you didn’t even know if you were close to the exit or not. The loud and hurried footsteps seemed to follow you, but whenever you looked back there was no one.

It hadn’t even been five minutes but to you it already seemed like an eternity. Until as you ran and looked back you bumped into something. The impact was so strong that it threw you backwards and you fell on your butt.

“Are you okay?” The man in front of you asked. He didn’t really look worried, his expression was neutral, but when you didn’t answer he tilted his head to the side like a confused puppy.

“I-I’m fine, I was just trying to get out.” You stammered still confused at how he ended up in front of you.

“It’s pretty confusing, isn’t it?” He asked as he extended his hand towards you. “They really just made a maze. Well, I guess it’s scarier when you realize how hard it is to get out.”

You gladly took his hand and let him help you up. You could feel the heat radiating from him even through the white glove.

“Yeah, it wasn’t quite what I expected.” You said still nervously. You were starting to feel aware of how bad your costume was as you watched him closely.

His outfit looked old, but luxurious. His long, white hair was too beautiful to be just a wig, so it must be a very expensive one. The white makeup with blood dripping from his horns and lips looked so natural that you had a hard time telling if it wasn't real. Maybe you were just a little drunk from the drink you had before entering the maze.

“Are you sure you're okay?” He asked again, now looking at you more closely as if he wanted to read your thoughts. You just nodded. “Come with me, I'll help you get out of here.”

He held your hand and you just followed him, strangely he gave you mixed feelings. At the same time that you felt like you could follow him forever, like he was someone familiar to you, you also felt like you had to run and disappear somewhere he could never find you again.

“What are you?” You asked as you pointed to his costume. An attempt to make the awkward silence disappear.

He looked at you with a small smile and then answered you. “A demon.” He looked very proud. You would feel the same way if you were dressed in a decent costume instead of the crap you were wearing.

“Witch.” You said, pointing to yourself. He laughed and you didn’t know if he was making fun of you or if he just found the situation funny.

It didn’t take long for you to find your way out. You were ready to go downstairs and get some fresh air when Bill grabbed you by the arm.

“I want to ask you something.” He said softly, his voice almost melodic.

After that, everything became a big blur. It was like you were hypnotized, like his presence was clouding your senses. His black, shiny eyes watched you intently while his hands traveled over your body, feeling every part.

No matter the question, you would say yes.

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You couldn't stop the moans and screams that left your lips, even if you tried. Your eyes were cloudy and tears were streaming down your cheeks as you were fucked relentlessly. The danger of being caught made everything more exciting, the excitement was boiling your blood hotter and making the pleasure you were succumbing to intensify.

Bill hadn't just made you say yes to him, he made you beg and beg. Somehow you couldn't explain, he had this sexual aura that drove you crazy just by being in his presence.

And you weren't ashamed to beg for more, with drool running down your lips and tears welling up in those beautiful doe eyes due to the euphoria and boundless lust, and your lips swollen from the kiss, Bill found it hard to resist.

You were holding tightly to the railing of the stairs. Your feet stopped touching the ground minutes later, using the railing to ground yourself. Bill's hips were moving forward and relentless. The head of his cock kept hitting against that familiar spot that made you moan loudly and your body tremble.

You could only let out loud moans, whimpers and screams, your words were incoherent and you couldn't focus on anything other than the sensations that were passing through your body. Bill's well-aimed thrusts made you stupid and with the way that cock in you made your lower abdomen distend a little, he feared you would break.

No. He wanted to break you and you wanted Bill to break you into a thousand pieces and then reshape you into whatever image he wanted.

The thought of Bill breaking you and making you know no one but him had you babbling and begging for the man to go harder. If you were even halfway coherent, you would blush at the way you were moaning like a whore. Loud, desperate and hungry for more. It defied the intensity of Bill’s grunts and hissed curses. He reached down and lifted one of your legs while his other hand remained on your hip, bringing it back to meet his thrusts.

"P-please!" You whimpered, your hands shaking.

"Greedy girl." Bill whispered in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine at how thick, husky, and tight it was. "Even though I'm fucking you into oblivion, reshaping your insides with my cock, you still want more." He whispered sensually, his hot breath brushing against your neck.

You could only let out a moan in response.

"Well then, who am I to refuse you, my love." He pressed a loving kiss to your neck, sucking on the skin. His fangs scraped against your skin, wanting to sink into that excess flesh and pull out the delicious nectar that was hidden beneath it. "Take it then. Take it all."

And you did. Your eyes widened as you let out a choked gasp, your hands kneading the metal railing as they tightened.

Bill's cock was now hammering into you, the pace increasing. You couldn’t help but take it, your eyes rolling back as a steady wave of pleasure mixed with a little pain kept hitting you. If this kept up, you were going to come.

As if he knew exactly what was going to happen, he said, “Let it go.” Burying his nose in the crook of your neck.

It hit you so suddenly that you lost your voice for a second. You let out a choked noise as your body twitched and your legs shook.

Every nerve ending in you lit up like fireworks, your mouth falling open and your body shaking as ecstasy hit you like a train. You couldn’t think, and for a moment, you forgot how to breathe. Your senses went blank and white noise filled your ears.

But that didn’t stop Bill from chasing his own pleasure. He continued to fuck you through your orgasm, pounding the little air you had left in your lungs. His hips never stopped their impulses, still grinding relentlessly against you.

You were whimpering and babbling deliriously like a broken record. You couldn’t see clearly, your pleasure-induced haze clouding any semblance of thought. Your vision was blurred by the constant tears you were shedding.

Bill groaned hoarsely as he continued to thrust into your overstimulated body, his hips snapping against your ass without stopping. The tightness of your pussy around his cock had him approaching his own orgasm, his rhythm beginning to falter and his thrusts disorganized.

Without holding back any longer, Bill sank his fangs into your shoulder, causing you to let out a shrill cry. Around his blood-filled mouth, he groaned loudly as he came, his hips still moving as he painted your pussy with his cum. Some of it leaked out with each thrust of his cock, the squelching noises sinful and filthy. His hips soon stilled, flushed against your ass.

You passed out the moment Bill removed his fangs from your neck, the pleasure too much for you to handle. Bill just laughed hoarsely, his hair disheveled and his skin glistening with a sheen of sweat. After so much time waiting and watching you. You had finally said yes to him. Now you were all his, flesh, blood, and soul.

[jeonscatalyst]

Fuck Hybe and Fuck Min Heejin. I hate how they keep using their artists as meat shields.

Hybe made this whole thing public to try to use MHJ as a scapegoat to all of their wrongdoings, and used their artists for sympathy to get the public on their side.

Then Min Heejin manipulated NewJeans into ruining their careers for her and put this horrible mentality in their mind that they're nothing without her.

Then we find out Hybe has been mistreating Taehyung, letting the people who leaked Jimin's personal documents go without taking any legal action, committing fraudulent album sales, and prioritizing gaining money over their artists protection and wellbeing.

And now, Min Heejin is trying to use Taehyung for sympathy points by bringing up something that happened last year, and pretending she's his friend. He's already dealing with the hardships of military service and now she drags him into her mess. If she was really his friend she wouldn't use him like this, especially at such a delicate time for him.

I hope all the artists are well. I can't imagine how hard it's been for them to deal with all the consequences of the company's mistakes. I just wanna give them all a huge hug 😢💜

Let's protect ourselves as well, as infuriating as it is, we can't let this mess take over our lives and ruin our days. The best we can do is support the artists and remind them about how loved they are. Taking sides and sending hatred is only helping the perpetrators fight each other.

I hope you're doing well!

Borahae 💜

Hey @moo-mood

I understand what you are saying but I think some of the points your brought up are pure conjecture as there is not a single shred of proof from the documents that shows that any of the BTS members are being mistreated. I think that fans are so sensitive of their idols they don’t understand the difference between a label having an opinion on an artist and an artist actually being mistreated.

I have seen people read and misunderstand those documents and I don’t even know where to start from in correcting some of those things. I have seen Tae’s fans promise to bring down the company because apparently the company has been sabotaging Taehyung but there is actually nothing in those documents that support this claim. They had an opinion on Tae’s album and suddenly that was sabotage to Tae stans. The same way they mentioned that Tae’s dating rumors might have helped other members live more peacefully in their private lives and Tae fans took that to mean that Hybe orchestrated the rumours so other members could live freely. The lack of reading comprehension or even understanding what those documents were about in the first place is truly astounding.

Don’t get me wrong though. I don’t for one moment think that company is innocent. As a matter of fact I think they are just as dirty as any other entertainment company and everyone with a brain knows that for these companies to get so big, they have to dip their feet in dirty waters and Hybe definitely is no different. They all have to play the dirty game to keep up with the competition and taekookers are acting like they were right all along and are trying to link every mention of Jk , Tae and Jimin in those documents to a nonexistent romance between Tae and Kook. I don’t think of Bang PD as a saint but I think he actually cares about BTS members and this isn’t because of anything he does or says but because of what the members do and say and how I have seen them around him for years. Watching them, you could easily tell that he didn’t treat them like a boss would but actually like his little friends or younger brothers. You see how he allowed the boys to be able to give him their honest opinions of how he ran things starting from Rookie king when he made it possible for the boys to climb that platform and yell out any grievances they had towards him or anyone else and how Jimin wasn’t afraid to tell him that his previous melody for DNA sucked and he listened and changed it . That is not a dictator. That is not something someone who doesn’t care about the boys or their opinions would do. You also see how freely they tease him, how happy they seem around him, they even have this funny drawing of him that they always laugh about, the even go as far as teasing him about his weight and he just laughs it off.

They have spoken endlessly about how well he treats them and about how good he has been to them. He is usually in the habit of treating the boys to one on one meals and even invited Jin over and cooked for him. We even see how closely Jungkook worked with him in the solo era and I’m sure working with him wasn’t the only option he had.

One thing that I have always found funny is that Tae stans swear that Tae detests bang PD but watch these videos

And this one

Is this how people behave with someone who maltreats them? Pay attention to the part where bang pd calls them after they win first place, Tae is the one excitedly holding the phone and calling him “shiyuk hyung” instead of referring to him with more professional appellations. Also recently, bang pd did a show or something of the sort with JYP and Taehyung screenshotted it and posted it on his instagram story and captioned it something like “does this mean he “JYP” is now my uncle?” Why on earth would he do this if he hated bang pd? Why would he do this if he was sabotaged and mistreated so much by the company?

I think Bang PD is a piece of work and is just like any other money hungry and egotistical boss is but I think he always cared about BTS, I mean that was his first group and they came up together from nothing to something. This isn’t to say that they probably haven’t had misunderstandings but generally I think they have a good relationship with the company regardless of what some fans think.

As for Min Hee Jin, I am somewhat indifferent about her because I don’t know enough about her to form a strong opinion and I Know that in her fight with Hybe, both parties are definitely guilty of things but I think her move to mention how Tae contacts her amidst all of this was low, even for her. Dragging the members into their fights to gain sympathy is low and she knew exactly what she was doing because now she has supporters from within the fandom who are Tae stans and that is because they think she cares about him and Tae likes her. She claims she cares about NJs but look at the nasty things she said about them.

Anyways, hun, let’s just trust in the members and know that they are old enough to take care of themselves and know what is good for them and what isn’t. If at all they are being mistreated, I trust that they would know how to deal with it.

Thanks💜

[nectardaddy]

Serendipity

kita shinsuke x f!reader masterlist honey, honey

I wanna know if your heart's racing too. . .because mine's a mile a minute

notes: based one month after the original timeline of '88 Ford, not really proofread I got lazy, silly goofy vibes and I love them so bad

The morning air was gentle, cool, and crisp. Every rush of wind bit at her exposed arms and made a chill run down her spine; forgetting a jacket wasn’t the best of decisions, especially so early in the morning. It was the time of year that was frigid in the mornings and late into the evening, but warm once it reached mid-day. She hated it, as she never truly knew what to wear. Despising layers, the friction from long sleeves and jackets on her arms upon working drove her up a wall, and being incredibly stubborn, she simply didn't see the need - until now. 

She cursed as she dragged a bale of hay, tightly tied so only a few pieces strayed behind, through the field and to the side of a fence before she was thrust with another bitter wind that made her suck in a sharp breath. “Jesus fuck why the hell is it so cold?” To which only the breeze answered, rustling through trees that began to lose their leaves in droves. Red, orange, and brown littered the ground as each gust only sent more down, and only made her more frustrated. 

She debated going back inside for a jacket, but the thought of returning to the warm, cozy atmosphere of the farm house made her rethink. If she stepped one foot inside before her chores were done, they, most definitely, would not be getting done. The woman didn't hear the low rumble of a truck far behind her, nor did she hear the slam of its door when it finally parked. Too preoccupied in hurling curses and insults at the wind, of all things, she hadn't the faintest idea anyone had neared her until the crunch of leaves was beside her. 

“Good mornin’,” the timbre of the man's voice startled her and she sucked in a breath. She had dropped the hay bale she was once dragging, a swish hitting her ears as it hit the ground abruptly. He watched her turn around quickly, narrowed eyes prying into him with a focus almost deadly. The woman never was one for fear, as her fight or flight reaction was always to completely rip apart. But her gaze softened when she saw him - Kita Shinsuke, the man she could finally call hers - and he watched the anger and near panic drift away from her features in mere seconds.

“Mornin’,” a gruff reply to a sweet start of an interaction. “Don't even ask to help me, you need to get to work.” Her tone was snappy, but held only the smallest amount of bite to it. She couldn't be snarky with him even if she tried. Years of pining refused her to do so, even if it was the only thing she knew how to do.

He flashed her a small smile, “that's why I wasn't gonna’ ask.” The man was a bit cheeky with his words, despite the attitude he knew, all too well, that the woman possessed. Often saw first hand how bluntly she placed her words, and just how deadly they could be. One month ago he probably wouldn't have dreamed of defying her; but now, although respectful and maintaining his manners, he opted for helping her anyway, despite her protest. He caught her gaze again as he stepped forward, and narrowed eyes onto him made his lips pull into a wider smile. “Y'look pretty this mornin’.” 

She positioned herself in front of the hay bale - a silent, stubborn refusal as she rolled her eyes at his words. She knew too well what his words truly were: a sidestep of the conversation at hand. “Don't be a smart ass, Shin, I just woke up ten minutes ago.” One thing the woman was not was a morning person, and the sentiment shone through her appearance and attire within the early mornings. Tired eyes, jostled hair, and the first few pieces of clothing she could get her hands on off her bedroom floor - one being pajama pants. Added with work boots and gloves, so the hay wouldn't slice up her hands, there was no denying she looked rather out of place, comfortable even. 

“I'm not,” he denied. “I think you always look pretty.” He tried stepping to the side, hoping to pass her to help her with the chores she still had to complete, only for her to step in front of him again. He only chuckled, “why am I not allowed to help you?”

“Because I can do it myself,” a snappy response as she crossed her arms over her chest. “You need to get to work.” A thought crossed his mind that he very well could take the hay bale from her; but the inevitable scolding that would ensue made him halt the thought in its tracks. It was far too early to get her riled up; if he pissed her off now the entire day would spiral into her fit of rage. 

“I know you can do it by yourself.” He learned his first year on the farm that agreeing with her was, by far, the simplest solution - and the best way to skirt around an ear full of swearing. “But I want to help you.” 

There was a groan, loud enough he could hear the annoyance drip from her lips. He thought about pointing out that help could be beneficial, she could get done faster, but the hiss that followed made his mind change gears. The man knew it was chilly the moment he stepped out of his own home, dawning a work jacket that would later be neglected as the sun rose - but worn nonetheless. While he wasn't surprised to see her without one, knowing full well she told herself she didn't need it, he knew she was cold. And now, as another gust of the frigid breeze hit them, she swore and went rigid.

“Dammit,” she groaned. “Whatever, you can help, but just so I can get the hell out of the cold.” Her words were brash and sharp, jagged and rough as they left her tongue. Her usual drawl thicker as she became frustrated with the idea of receiving help; in her mind, she didn't need it, didn't want it. Growing up on a farm meant one does things by themselves, divvy out work so things ran smoothly, so she simply never asked for it. She knew better. But Kita's assistance threw a wrench into the working order she helped create, and her jaw clenched at the very thought. “Don't think for a second you're helping me every morning, got it?”

Usually her words made others scowl and roll their eyes, sometimes even sling words right back if they were truly brave enough (though it never ended well.) But he only smiled, as that was what he fell in love with in the first place. Never scared to speak her mind, quick to defend herself and those she loved - which made his heart race every time he was the topic of defense - and slick words that could get her out of just about anything. “Yes, ma'am.” He heard an audible ‘ugh’ leave her lips at the latter word, and he gave her a sheepish smile, “sorry, it's a habit.”

Before the man aided the woman in her morning chores; however, he took the jacket he was wearing off. Felt a pull at his heart strings every time she shivered or cursed, or down right complained. Once the fabric left his skin, the cool air hit him with force, earning a small shiver from him but he handed her the jacket all the same. Unfortunately, it seemed the bitter wind had turned her already poor mood completely sour. She shot him a look before bending down to grab the neglected hay, not taking the jacket in an act of utter stubbornness.

“I don't need that shit.” The woman groaned as she began to drag the bundle, shuffling past his outstretched hand as she forcibly pulled. “Are you gonna’ help or stand there?” She watched him frown and turn his head, dead set on creating a stalemate with her over a jacket.

“You're cold, honey.” The pet name left his lips unfavorably smooth, and his breath hitched in his throat upon realizing. It wasn't necessarily a strange word, but foreign between the pair that just recently confessed their pining. The man felt his heart hammer in his chest; all notions of being cold just seconds prior were dashed as a surge of heat rose to his face. Shit. He was, most definitely, a dead man walking.

‘Honey’ was considered a curse to the woman, and he knew the sentiment like the back of his hand. She would balk and roll her eyes at the word if spoken from someone, usually past lovers he had the misfortune of meeting, coming and going here and there over the years. Would hear her snap and groan at the word, trampling any comfort behind it with a stark ‘don't fuckin’ call me that.’ So he stood stationary as she registered the word, watched her process it in her mind as he stood like a mad man waiting for death row. But the execution never came. 

Instead, there was a pause, a short moment of nothingness as she dropped the bale once more, the hay forgotten for the umpteenth time. He felt as though he should apologize, grovel, something as he watched her eyes search his own. But no words ever came to him, as he knew saying anything might buy him a one way ticket to heaven's gates. Countless times he had heard the woman rip into others, a terror of a woman whom he never thought he would be the recipient of her cruelty. Her gaze made him feel small, like a sheep who cowered before a wolf just before its jaws sunk into skin.

But the sharp snap of jaws was dashed by a small smile. And he felt his world that began to crash around him rewind.

It was a smile that was fought against, as he saw her bite the inside of her cheek in order to stop it. But it was no use as her smile grew anyway. “God,” she finally broke the silence with a small chuckle. “I thought I hated that word.” Past tense. Hated. Never in his life did he ever think he would be grateful of the word hated, it was brash and his grandmother always told him never to use such a strong word against anything. But now, hearing the past tense made him breathe a sigh of relief. “I’ve lost my edge.”

“What?”

Honey. A singular, two syllable, word had redirected her mood from devilish to tender. A sudden change that gave her whiplash, but was thoroughly enjoyed nonetheless. The woman chuckled at his reaction and finally took the jacket from him - one of which he had held out for her to take the entire time, too frightened to move. “You make me soft.”

“Is that a bad thing?” Questioned through a small smile that finally peaked the corners of his lips, grateful that the woman didn’t kill him right there on the spot. 

She rolled his eyes and sighed, but the grin on her lips still remained through her faux sense of exasperation. “Obviously,” her tone now mirrored sarcastic and she took a step towards him. “I’m supposed to put the fear of god into you.”

He couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his lips, bubbling out at her words at the realization she was none the wiser to his fear only seconds before. “Trust me, you do.”

@wyrcan @chizunata @seroh @chemiru @aozui

@h3xi2g0n3 @localgaytrainwreck @mollyrolls @causenessus @diorzs

@rory-cakes @phoenix-eclipses @pattys-got-cakes @girlkissersco

@jaynawayna @aliensstolemyheart @le000xxgrd @cherrypieyourface @theycallmenanamisgirl

@softpia @bokutoko @guitarstringed-scars @totallytatum @bakery-anon

@hyunteru @kameyyy @nekozaki @eggyrocks @jadeoru

@sandwhitches

[vixenihy]

Late Night Guilt

Summary: A few months after the Cuban Missile Crisis, Jack is still facing the stressful aftermath and his survivors guilt from the war certainly isn’t helping either. Just when he feels he’s out of luck, someone he loves dearly is there to help.

Tags/Notes + Pairing: jfk x jackie kennedy, hurt/comfort?, swearing, mentions of past infidelity, antiquated beliefs about emotions, stress, anxiety.

Word Count: 1.1k

A/N: this is my first fic! i’m not super experienced with writing jackie, i fear. but i noticed that there aren’t any jfk x jackie fics so i wanted to change that. i love these two, lol. the indents may be a bit off bc i wrote this on my phone and used the spacebar as substitutes for indents… sorry lol. the banner was made by me, and the border below belongs to @/menschenopfer !

God Damnit…

Jack lets out a quiet groan of frustration, biting his cheek and hoping that the interviewer didn’t hear him. He’d forgotten to take the medication for managing his nerves. Not like he can remember what it’s called, though. There's too many names to even begin to remember what the Hell it’s called.

The past few months have been nothing but stress; Paper after paper and interview after interview. It’s a total mess, and it’s his fault. The Cuban Missile Crisis was the closest the world came to ending; but who started this beginning to the end? Well, Jack blames no one but himself. He can barely resist the urge to tap his teeth with his fingers in front of the camera focusing on his face.

“Mr. President, after the close call with the Soviet Union and Cuba, a handful of Americans are curious about your story that led to you earning your Purple Heart. We know there is a movie coming out later this year, but would you care to give a little of your own personal perspective?” The interviewer asks. Jack clenches his jaw and tightly interlocks his fingers as a heavy pang hits his heart. The last thing Jack wants to be reminded of is the people who he failed to protect, the two people who died because of him. He can feel the guilt eating away at him as he speaks, his voice just as calm as his face.

“Oh, there isn’t much to say. They sank my boat, and we were stranded for a while. Then with the help of some of the natives, the Navy came and saved me and my crew.” Jack explains calmly, ignoring the burning hot fire, hours of pulling men to the boat, screaming the names of the men he’d lost till daybreak. The swimming, vomiting, starvation, the close calls with death, and the terrible guilt he faces to this day. He left out all of it. No one will know how he felt that day, because Kennedys don’t show how they feel. A real Kennedy never cracks.

Jack snaps back to reality just as the interviewer finishes scribbling his notes.

“Thank you Mr. President.”

—————

“Bunny, it’s okay if you want to talk…You know I'm here for you, don’t you?” Jackie presses as she helps to massage her husband's back. Usually, she wouldn’t press too much into his day and his issues as she believed it wasn’t right to bring up the stress of the day right after it had ended, but Jackie noticed how stressed he looked and how upset he seemed to be when she saw a glimpse of him when he was alone. It worries her. And though he had hurt her in the past with his philandering behavior, she knows why he acts the way he does and how he’s doing his best to change. So, she decides to focus on the future rather than the past.

“I know, Jackie…But I'm fine. It’s just that work is stressful. That’s all.” Jack sighs, laying his head in his arms and closing his eyes as Jackie helps to work the stress out of his body. He wishes that he could tell Jackie all about his day and vent his frustrations, but he finds himself biting his tongue. Men don’t talk about their feelings, especially not a Kennedy man. He can hear his parents chastising him in the back of his mind for even having such a thought. So, he just decides to let it go and switch the conversation.

“Thank you for helping me with my back, Kid…It’s been killing me for the past month. I think picking up Caroline at Christmas really aggravated it.” He continues, turning his head back ever so slightly to look at her. Jackie looks so beautiful with the dim lamp shining behind her, illuminating her figure like an angel. He doesn’t deserve her, how did he get so lucky?

“It’s alright, Jack. You certainly made her day.” She whispers with a chuckle, glancing into his faded green eyes and watching them spark with life, the Jack Kennedy she knows and loves seems to finally come to life.

——

The crackle of fire and the smell of oil taints the air as Jack slowly opens his eyes, groaning in agony as his back spasms. He goes to grab the nightstand, but only finds a cold metal surface beneath his hand. He stumbles as he pulls himself into a standing position, opening his eyes at last. His heart drops as he realizes where he is. He’s over a thousand miles from home, he’s in the same place he fought like Hell to escape from, he’s back.

The South Pacific.

Following the same routine he’s done a hundred times before, Jack leaps off the side of the creaking bow and swims out towards the voices of his crew. They scream and cry out for their skipper and their mothers, a haunting sound he’s listened to too many times before. Just as he’s about to reach one man, he sees a head disappear below the waves. Gasping with fear, Jack dives below the waves and claws his way downwards, the darkness of the sea making it impossible for Jack to see the face of the man he’s trying to save. But just as he reaches out, he slips out of his reach. And he helplessly watches the figure disappear into the dark abyss.

Jack awakes with a start, jolting to find himself back in the luxurious bedroom he’s lived in for the past few years. He sits up gently, bringing himself back to the present with a deep sigh. Attempting to alleviate his back pain, Jack brings his knees to his chest and lies his head on his arms. A tightness settles in his heart as guilt festers in his mind. He forces back a few tears as he remembers one of the hardest experiences of his life. Just before any tears begin to break through, he feels a hand on his shoulder.

“Jack?” Jackie asks groggily, confused to see her husband awake so late. “What’s the matter, Bunny?” Wiping his eyes with his hand, Jack lies down onto his back.

“It’s nothing, Jackie. Just a bad dream is all…” He sighs, turning over onto his side.

“Go back to sleep, Kid. It’s alright..” Jack mutters. But before he can allow himself to drift off, he feels Jackie's arms wrap around him and hold him close to her body. At first, he seems uncomfortable by the touch his wife is giving him. It feels so foreign and uncomfortable. But as the seconds pass, he finds himself warming up to it…

“Maybe we can get away to Hyannis Port on Saturday. No press, no people, no work…Just us. It’ll be cold, but I think you need a break.” Jackie suggests, placing a kiss on her husband's neck and rubbing her thumb over his hand.

“I love you, Bunny.” She sighs, cuddling closer to Jack.

“I love you too, Jackie.” Jack smiles, shutting his eyes and slowly drifting off to sleep.

[miss-tc-nova]

Not Vil - Vil Schoenheit x Reader

Okay, listen. Listen Linda! I know this isn't great, even though this is kind of the concept you were thinking of. I hope you still find this one silly and somewhat entertaining, but just you wait. I had another idea too.

So stay tuned!

Premise: Vil is taking his character a bit too far

Words: 926

~~~~~

               I feel my lips purse, willing myself to keep my mouth shut. This is important to him. This is for a project—for his career. Plus, it would cause quite a bit of drama.

               But damn if I don’t slap Vil Schoenheit, I better get a Partner-of-the-Year award.

               For the past thirty days, the actor has been testing method acting—the kind people use in TV shows and movies, pretending that they truly are the character both on and off camera. I think part of the excitement comes from the fact that this is a main character role and he wants it to be his best yet. And it wouldn’t be bad, if Vil wasn’t playing such an eccentric, flirtatious, goofy character. It was kind of cute at first, and maybe I even enjoyed the extra flirting a little bit. But then it got old.

               Vil’s excessive monologuing on the beauty of every person he came across bordered on the realm of Rook. Everyone was lovingly compared to some beauty or another, which is very awkward for most of these self-conscious NRC boys. He began willing joining in on the antics of the first years, which was fun for a day, but became overbearing when he quickly began leading the group into even more shenanigans—several of which I became responsible for. And for all the poise and confidence that Vil exuded, this “character” was naïve with such childish notions of relationships. I did not need any more roses or for him to start fawning at the thought of a kiss. I didn’t even get the kiss in the end.

               Now, I’m sitting here, going over my homework, sitting alone in Ramshackle for some peace from that overbearing character.

               The foyer door opens. Ramshackle is still very much bare and under-furnished, leaving me fully exposed to whatever guest let themselves in.

               “There’s my beautiful muse.” The higher tone of his voice actually sends unpleasant shivers down my spine.

               “Oh. Hi sweetheart,” I greet, hoping my tone stays even.

               Hands cupping my face—a big Vil no-no—the young man squishes my face as he presses kisses all across my face. After at least a dozen, I shake him off.

               “I’ve been looking everywhere for you! How was your day, darling?”

               I drag a sleeve across my face. “It’s been alright. Trein gave an essay assignment and I’ve been working on it since class ended.”

               “Hm? Let me see.”

               Before I could say anything, the page disappears. I didn’t need help; I didn’t even ask. But here’s this wacky, flamboyant character waxing poetic about some treaty between humans and fae. Hell, I’m not even sure what he’s talking about and have long since tuned him out when, once again, his attention turns on me.

               Fingers tip my chin higher. With eyes clearly clouded with rose-tinted glasses, he coos at me.

               “What I wouldn’t do to place a tender kiss upon that beautiful face of yours.”

               The answer is obviously leaning in. I can’t even remember the last time Vil gave me an actual kiss or curled up with me for our weekly movie night. Hell, he won’t even hold my hand as we walk across campus anymore—too busy monologuing about some purity or other. I’m sick of this. This is not Vil and I’ve had enough.

               If he wants to be this character, then fine. He’s that character.

               “Mmm, I dunno. That sounds a bit too forward if you ask me.”

               A hand finds his chest. “Forward? I didn’t offend you, did I?”

               “No, by all means you flatter me, but such behavior would be improper, don’t you think?”

               The slightest twitch of his brows seems to say some signal has reached him.

               “Perhaps the impropriety lies with me. I would be honored if you would grace me with a kiss.”

               “Excuse me?”

               With pouting lips, Vil tilts his head. “Kiss me.”

               “Kiss you?”

               “Please?”

               I turn my head away, waving a hand dismissively. “Sorry, but I’m dating Vil Schoenheit.”

               The man freezes. Blinks.

               “But I’m…”

               I watch, waiting for the ball to drop.

               He sighs, shoulders relaxing with a hint of defeat on his face.

               “I’ve gone too far, haven’t I.”

               A smile tugs at my lips. “Maybe a little.”

               His head falls back, arms open to beckon me into his embrace which I gladly step into. Caressing hands rub at my back, his chin resting atop my head.

               “I’m sorry, my gem.”

               Giggling, I hold tightly. “If you don’t take this crappy methodism out of your acting techniques, I’m breaking up with you. I refuse to date all your characters.”

               “That’s a bit harsh.” Even his voice holds some laughter to it. “You could’ve said something sooner.”

               “Yeah right. You would’ve nearly burst into tears and begged me to tell you what you could change…in character.”

               He sighs. “Oh fine. I would have.” Leaning back, Vil gives me a smile—a true, gentle, sultry Vil smile. “So, how should I make it up to you?”

               I walk my fingers along his chest. “I think you owe me an extensive spa day for all the stress you’ve put me through.”

               Amethyst eyes take in my face. “Mmm, you may be right. You might be starting to develop frown lines.”

               I glare.

               “I’m kidding, my gem. I would be happy to spoil you. Are you going to pick the movie tonight?”

               “I’m going to pick the most childish, goofy, outlandish movie I can find.”

               Again, he sighs. “The price of acting is forever a steep one.”

~~~~~

Alternate Version (Coming Soon)

Nova’s Twisted Wonderland Masterlist

[xxchaosjojoxx]

Misunderstanding (Penguin x reader)

A/N: I’m a sucker when it comes to Penguin and enemies to lovers kinda things. I hope you enjoy it like me while writing it. Happy birthday my lovely @penkura / @penkuramain

It was a boring and hot day, especially when you have cleaning duties with your crewmate Shachi. Since you joined, nearly 1 year ago, you never really talked much with Shachi. You were quite friendly with him, chatting casual stuff but nothing more. No personal things. It’s not like you wanted it this way. You were focusing on other things. Being the log keeper for the heart pirates, helping Law and the rest of the crew with everything you can or trying to impress a certain someone. You and Shachi were on deck, scrubbin the last dirt off the ship. You noticed that Shachi was glancing at you from time to time. Sometimes your eyes met and you smiled a little, but no one said a thing.

Shachi cleared his throat. “Hey Y/N, can I ask you something?”

You looked at him, clearly confused as to what he wanted to know.

“Sure, go ahead.”

“Ehm...I noticed that you are quite talkative when it comes to Penguin.”

You gripped on the broom in your hands tightly. What is he thinking? “This isn’t a question, you know?”

“Yeah you right ehmm… You know Penguin is my best friend and he is important to me. And you talk a lot with him about different things. I don’t wanna sound rude or something. I uhm…was just wondering..how should I put it?”

You looked at him with an annoyed groan. “I’m running out of patience, Shachi.”

He shrieked a little. “Ok, fine. Do you hate him or something? Penguin, I mean.”

You blinked your eyes a couple times. Did you hear correctly?

A soft smile was gracing your lips. “Not at all. I’m actually quite in love with him, to be honest.”

The red-head shook his head. “Wait, are you for real? But you pick on him and totally show off to piss him off.”

You couldn’t help but scratch your neck, as soon as you noticed the warm feeling in your face. “I’m actually trying to impress him somehow so he would notice me. But I guess this came out totally wrong.” You chuckled and your eyes showed Shachi a hint of sorrow. “No wonder he ignores me all the time when I try to talk to him nowadays. And about the other thing. My brain can’t comprehend when I’m talking to someone I find attractive. That’s why I always say stupid things.”

It was quite for a while and you both stare at each other. “S-Sorry I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s fine. You were worried about your best friend. I can understand this. Don’t worry, oh and thank you. We make a great team.” You showed him a big grin which he returned.

With fast steps you entered the polar Tang again, as soon as you went through the door you noticed Penguin, standing or more hiding beside it. Even so you couldn’t see his face clearly you could see that his mimic was different than usual. Like he feels uncomfortable. You noticed that he was a little red on his face. Maybe he had a fever. You wanted to ask him, if he felt alright or if you could do something for him but you remembered Shachi’s words and shook this feeling off. So you decided to give him some space for now. With a smile you walked past him. “Hey Penguin. We just finished, Shachi is still outside.” And with that you left both of them.

Shachi was soon beside Penguin. He noticed his friend's behavior and the look on his face. “You overheard our conversation?” Shachi asked while patting the young man’s shoulder.

He gulped while hiding his face more under his signature hat. “Yeah. But is it really the truth? Y/N was pretty unfazed after seeing me.”

Shachi hummed in agreement. “Yeah you’re right. I’m not sure either. It’s hard for me to tell if she is actually telling the truth or not. We’re not close enough for me to figure it out.”

“Go on ahead, Shach. I need some fresh air.” It was time for him to cool down. Penguin wasn’t sure if it would be better if this turns out to be a lie or not. He didn’t wanna overhear it by accident and now he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

After a few days passed, no one showed any different reaction. The words and your smile after telling Shachi that you are in love with him, made his heart jump. It was an excited feeling and Penguin was still unsure about it. He tried to read you. He wanted to know if you were messing with both of him or not. No one was close enough with you and even so he didn’t wanna ask someone about this kinda thing. It was too personal and without your consent it was a no-go.

After dinner Penguin went out on deck, standing near the railing and enjoying the view and light breeze. A cough was heard and Penguin turned around. There you were, standing in front of him. You waved at him shyly and he waved back automatically.

With a grin you took a step towards him, at this moment he noticed that you were holding a spear in your hand.

“I thought about trying out different weapons. And I think a spear could fit my battle style.” You said and swung the spear, trying to impress him. Penguin couldn’t say anything. He was too stunned about the falling sun behind you, highlighting your body, your face and especially your smile in this radiant light. Your eyes were sparkling like stars.

You were quite happy that he was looking at you, not ignoring you or walking away. Until you slipped away and ended up falling flat on your face. A loud “bang” was heard and you couldn’t even lift your head properly. Your hands were covering your face. “G-Guess spears won’t fit my battle style. Hehe…he..” You groaned and tried to play it cool. But your voice was shivering and you felt like dying from embarrassment. “I’m not hurt by the way. I’m just…dying hopefully. Can I throw myself out in the ocean?” Your voice was getting quieter til it became a whisper.

Penguin had a mind blowing realization at this time. Y/N was right, you did tell the truth. He and Shachi thought that you would mess with him out of fun, but you really did try to impress him. He remembered every single time. The one where you cook their favorite dishes, telling them it was easy to make it. He felt kinda angry at this, but now he knows, you did tell it, to show that you were willing to do it for him and that no one needs to worry, that those dishes take a lot of time and preparation. Or the one time where you suggested doing cleaning duty alone. “I am super fast. I don’t need a helping hand.” You wanted him to have some free time or duty with Shachi, not showing off that you are better without him.

All those little things you did and said, wasn’t for him to feel bad and useless. You tried to reassure him, support him, giving you some gift of appreciation with it. You always had a smile on your face whenever you saw him. A bigger smile when you were talking to him.

You were happy seeing him, talking with him. Not because you made fun of him. As he was looking at you, he felt stupid that he took it the wrong way. Did it take that long for him to notice you? Seeing you? The real you? He remembered your radiant appearance just a few moments ago and couldn’t help but smile softly. Why did he never realize that your smile was so beautiful? He took a few steps towards you, closing the distance and holding a hand towards you for you to grab it.

“I’ll help you.” Penguin said and your hands moved away, you were looking at him with a pout and beautiful big eyes. “Thanks” You said softly and were holding his hand.

As he helped you up off the ground, he pulled you into a short and quick kiss.

After realizing what was happening, you couldn’t comprehend a sentence.

You tried to stutter some words but couldn’t help it. He still held your hand, chuckling. “Maybe we should talk. What do you think?”

He asked and for the first time ever you got a glimpse of his eyes. “Sure.”

[sweetlyvibe]

PAIRING : Naruto Uzumaki x GN!Reader,

GENRE : fluff

WC : 1.3k

SUMMARY : Naruto starts noticing a shift in his feelings, a warmth that goes beyond friendship. As memories resurface and new emotions grow, he realizes there’s one person who’s always seen him for who he truly is—and means more to him than he ever expected.

CONTENT/WARNINGS : mild violence, heartfelt moments, a soft transition from friendship to romance, no use of y/n, just lmk if I missed anything…!

The first time he’d seen you again after three years, he was stunned.

It wasn’t just that you’d grown taller, or that your smile was brighter, or even that you seemed to carry yourself with a confidence he hadn’t seen before. It was something deeper, something he couldn’t quite put into words. As he stood in front of you, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck, he felt this pang in his chest—a feeling he’d never experienced before.

You greeted him with that same warmth you’d had since you were kids, the same smile that had always welcomed him on his toughest days. Naruto realized, with a mix of awe and confusion, that he hadn’t been able to forget that smile during his training with Jiraiya, no matter how hard he tried to focus on his new jutsus or pushing past his limits. Somewhere, deep down, he’d been waiting to come home to that familiar face.

In the days following his return, Naruto noticed that things felt both the same and completely different between you. You laughed together, like you always had. You joked, shared memories, and talked for hours. But every now and then, Naruto would catch himself watching you just a bit too long, feeling his heart pound in a way that made him fumble over his words.

“What’s going on with me?” he’d mutter to himself, lying on his bed at night, staring up at the ceiling. You’d always been his best friend, his first friend—the one person who’d never seen him as just the Nine-Tails kid. You had seen him, truly seen him, when no one else had.

For weeks, he wrestled with this strange, growing feeling. He didn’t know how to handle it, didn’t even know if it was something he could handle. But each time he saw you smile, each time you reached out to support him, Naruto felt that tug in his chest, and he realized that he didn’t want to ignore it. He wanted to understand it. He wanted to understand you.

Months passed, and Naruto grew stronger, as did his bond with you. Then came the attack on the village. When Pain tore through Konoha, Naruto fought harder than he ever had before, not just for the village, but for everyone he cared about—and you were at the top of that list. Through each punch, each jutsu, he held onto the thought of protecting the people he loved.

The village hailed him as a hero after that battle. People who had once looked down on him now cheered for him. They clapped him on the shoulder, they smiled, they praised him. It felt… good, but also strange. Naruto had always dreamed of being acknowledged by the village, but now that he had it, he realized something important.

All this time, when people hadn’t cared, when they’d treated him like an outcast, you had been the one standing by his side. You had seen him for who he was, and your support had never wavered. Naruto had always thought he’d wanted the approval of the entire village, but now he realized that your belief in him meant more than anything else.

And that’s when it hit him. You’d been there for him, always. Through every failure, every triumph, every moment of doubt and every rare victory, you’d been his rock. And in the middle of that realization, Naruto finally understood the feeling he’d been carrying since he came back from training.

He was in love with you.

A few months after the battle, Naruto invited you over to his apartment one evening. He didn’t know why, exactly. Maybe he was tired of keeping this feeling to himself, or maybe he just needed to be near you, to remind himself of everything you’d been through together. But tonight, he felt different. He felt ready.

You were sprawled on his couch, laughing about some memory from your childhood. Naruto watched you, a fond smile playing at his lips. It amazed him how easily you could talk to him, how you seemed to know exactly what he needed, even when he didn’t. For a moment, he got lost in the way you looked—comfortable, at home. The way you always looked around him.

“So, Naruto,” you said, breaking his train of thought, “what are you going to do now that the whole village loves you?” You raised an eyebrow, teasing him. “Guess I’ll have to get used to sharing you.”

He felt his heart skip at that. “I don’t… want to be shared,” he replied quietly, surprising even himself with how serious he sounded.

You tilted your head, curiosity sparking in your eyes. “What do you mean?”

Naruto took a deep breath. He’d been practicing how he would say this for weeks, running through scenarios in his mind. But now that he was sitting here, looking at you, he realized that words wouldn’t come easily. Still, he couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“I mean… I don’t want anyone else,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t want to share what I have with you. I want it to just… be us.”

Your expression softened, but you didn’t speak, waiting for him to continue. Naruto’s hands were trembling as he reached out and took your hand in his, a gesture he’d never dared to make before. The warmth of your skin against his sent a wave of courage through him.

“When I was training with Jiraiya-sensei, I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he admitted, his cheeks flushed. “No matter how hard I tried, you were always there. In my mind, I mean. And when I came back, I didn’t understand what I was feeling. I thought maybe it would go away. But it didn’t. And then… after the fight with Pain, when everyone started caring, I realized something. I realized that no one’s ever cared about me the way you have. No one’s ever seen me like you do.”

Naruto took a deep breath, his blue eyes searching yours. “You’ve been there for me, through everything. You didn’t care about the Nine-Tails, or how everyone else looked at me. You just… cared about me. And now… now I think I know why that matters so much to me.”

He paused, his heart pounding, every nerve in his body on edge. “I think… no, I know… that I’m in love with you.”

The words hung in the air, and Naruto felt his face go warm as he finally, finally said it. For the first time in his life, he was vulnerable, baring his heart to the one person he knew would never hurt it.

You looked at him, and for a terrifying moment, he couldn’t read your expression. Then, slowly, a smile spread across your face—a smile that melted every ounce of anxiety inside him.

“Oh, Naruto…” You squeezed his hand, your voice soft. “I’ve always been here because I love you, too. I don’t think there’s been a day where I haven’t wanted to be by your side.”

The relief and joy that washed over him was overwhelming. He felt like his chest would burst, like he’d found something he didn’t even know he’d been searching for.

Without thinking, he leaned in, closing the distance between you. Your lips met, soft and warm, and for that brief moment, nothing else existed. The village, the battles, the world—they all faded away, leaving just the two of you in a moment that was perfect, that was everything he’d ever wanted.

When he pulled back, Naruto looked at you, his heart still racing, his hand still holding yours tightly. “I don’t know what the future holds,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. “But I know that whatever happens… I want you with me. Always.”

You smiled, resting your forehead against his. “Always,” you echoed, your voice filled with the same promise.

And for the first time in his life, Naruto felt like he was exactly where he was meant to be. Right there, with you, the person who’d always been there, the one who had seen him at his worst and stayed. The person he loved.

[yallthemwitches]

The Storm, The Aftermath

A smutty, fluffy continuation of my jilytober fic 'The Storm' ( Rated T: Link Here) though it is not necessary to read them together. Also a portion of this is based off a @blvnk-art comic which I posted previously.

NSFW Warning! AO3 Here

“James…” Lily watches him from the bed, his shoulders tight, hands moving flustered as they search for some unknown item of clothing. Even from behind she can tell he is trying to regulate his breathing.  “James,” she repeats, taking a small pause, “I wasn’t planning on needing anything to sleep in.”  She feels her whole face flush.. If implications were heavy before, all nuance is now thrown out into the storm. 

“If your mum or dad ask, we fell asleep working on the assignment,” Lily murmurs, a hand curling deep into his hair while the other brushes a thumb over his bottom lip. 

“Right…assignment.” He pushes their bodies flush together and propels them backwards towards the open door to his room. His teeth nip at her thumb, sending her nervous system rampant.

“We can say I suggested we keep at it—you know, since I had to stay the night anyhow.” Her voice turns into a sigh as James skims his teeth against her cheek, grazing to her chin with an open mouth.

“Had to,” he teases, eyes fighting to stay open. His hands find where her shirt allows entrance to the skin underneath and he presses in. 

“Plus,” she sighs at the feel of his rough hands on her back, “ I didn’t quite like the look of the guest bedroom anyhow—too sterile.” 

"Are you calling my room dirty, Evans? How rude.” 

Their bodies push their way into the open door. Despite the efforts of his hands to erase all thought, Lily can’t help but relish in entering his personal space. It’s a rarity—she has seen his four poster bed back at school in fleeting moments from before they started hooking up, but even then that was a shared living space, marked by other boys past and present. This was his territory, completely unfiltered by anyone but himself. 

He makes a small noise of dissent as she untangles herself to get a better look at the room: his broom leans against a much too large mahogany bed and the static eyes of The Beatles stare back from the walls while quidditch heroes zoom across posters. Books are stacked on the floor at the bedside and a large bay window opens out to the gardens next to the house, now darkened by the incoming storm.  

With a shot of confidence, Lily turns to give  him a coy smile before bounding over to the foot of the bed, taking a seat on the edge. James watches her go, barely capable of keeping his jaw from unhinging as his heart rattles in his chest.

“Nice room Potter.” She leans back on her hands. The bedding feels expensive, higher quality than the stuff at Hogwarts and certainly the ones she has back in her room in Cokeworth. She imagines James curled underneath it, lying awake before another day of messing around with Sirius or practicing quidditch out in the field which flanks the Potter Estate, maybe just maybe also thinking of her…

They watch each other for a moment, sizing up the scenario. The wind from the snowstorm rattles the window, serving as a gentle reminder that they aren’t suspended outside of reality. It has been months since they started snogging in secret, but it isn’t until this moment they have actually achieved true, comfortable solitude. 

It’s an understatement to say that James can feel the implications of her presence. His whole body is burdened by the fact— years of imagining her sitting exactly where she is now are catching up to him, mixing with all the other fantasies that include words such as Lily, bed, and alone. She watches him with a smirk as he fiddles with the ends of his hair, shifting his weight to hide the feeling of arousal taking over despite his best efforts. 

“Uh…let me find you something to sleep in–” he says, becoming red around the cheeks. He turns towards an ornate dresser against the side wall and rips open a drawer, sticking his hand in to fish through the fabric before closing it and repeating with another. 

“James…” Lily watches him from the bed, his shoulders tight, hands moving flustered as they search for some unknown item of clothing. Even from behind she can tell he is trying to regulate his breathing. 

“James,” she repeats, taking a small pause, “I wasn’t planning on needing anything to sleep in.” 

She feels her whole face flush. If implications were heavy before, all nuance is now thrown out into the storm. 

“Oh?” His hands tighten around the knobs. The wood groans underneath and he grips onto it as though it is the only thing holding him back from lunging at her. He turns around slowly, eyes burning with something feral and raw.

“Yeah.” 

Her thoughts scramble as he takes slow steps towards her and she knows she is too close already to drowning in him. The smell of his room, the feel of his bed, him looking at her with that stare and hands capable of completely unwinding her—she doesn’t want to give in. She was the one who planned this all out, not him. She can’t let him take over so easily. 

He stands in front of her and lets his fingers skim across the tops of her shoulders, eyes searching her face. She takes a breath, mustering months worth of desire into one single moment of bravery. She reaches for his belt. 

It isn’t something they haven’t done before, but it feels reckless out of the context of fumbling moments in broom closets. James lets out a strained breath, eyes fluttering closed with his fingers now pressing into her shoulders, willing her to not move from against him. 

“Is this ok?” 

He responds with a groan as her other hand slides over the bulge that appeared long before they had entered the room. She can feel how turned on he is already, and it occurs to her that this is the first time they have ever been able to fully explore each other with the patience and dedication they deserve. 

“More than ok—-eons better than ok.” His eyes are glassy and wide, watching her like someone in the midst of sleepwalking. 

“And you don’t think your parents will—”

“Evans.” James groans out, “Can we not talk about my parents at a time like this.” He makes a small choking sound when her hand adds more pressure. “They never come over to this part of the house anyways.”

It isn’t the most satisfying answer, but she is in no state to complain. Moving her fingers around him, she feels every hard line of his erection straining into the fabric. She stares up at him with wonder as his face changes with her movements, his heart visibility erratic. She has to admit, it feels powerful to be like this—to watch as his jaw drops open and breath goes ragged and deep just by her fingers on trousers alone. 

“I have to admit something to you,” she murmurs, her other hand still working on his belt, “I didn’t want to come to your house just for the assignment.”

He lets out a strangled laugh and tries to help her with his belt but she swats him away. 

“I figured when you lied to our parents about needing to stay over,” he mumbles, eyes fighting to stay open. “Though I’m very interested in what excuse you would have come up with if there hadn’t already been a storm coming–”

His breath hitches as she gets his belt and pants undone, hand now edging around the waistband of his underpants.

“That's the thing-” his skin feels scorching under her hand as it dips farther down, slowly crawling to the base of his erection, “I planned to come today, because of the storm.”

She wraps her palm around him and he hisses, body arching forward as she gives him a small tug. They have only done this a number of times, but he always reacts in the same way: like his soul is leaving his body for some greater plane of consciousness. 

“Didn’t realize you had it in you,” he groans out, hands finding her neck and thumbs rubbing circles there.

“What?”

“Mischief.”

She pumps up his length and he lets out a soft string of swear words. 

“What can I say, you’ve been a bad influence.”

She lets him go and he gasps in disappointment. Flashing a smile, she pushes herself farther up the bed until she reaches the headboard. He crawls after her, reaching her legs and pulling them apart at the knees, easily flipping up the skirt that has pooled down by her waist. Looking up at her through skewed glasses, he begins dotting kisses into her inner thigh, each one more lavish than the next. 

“So what did you plan to do Miss Evans? Seeing as this is all your orchestration?”

She doesn’t answer, instead melting under the heat of his mouth. He is relentless, giving open kisses up her thighs, letting his tongue slide over her skin as he goes. She isn’t used to being able to watch him do it—more attuned to the dark shadows of shifting bodies against boxes of cleaning supplies. Here, she can clearly watch every movement, finally putting a visual to the sensation.

“Sleep, I suppose.” She finally gasps out and he chuckles against her thigh, sending a shiver up her body.

“I think we’re past the point of sleeping, Evans.”

He’s moving painfully slow, but she tries to savor it. His mouth nipping and teasing as he gets closer to the apex of her legs. It’s the one thing she yearns for more than anything else they have already done: his mouth on her center. The first time he ever did it, he fell to his knees as though in prayer in an empty classroom and she thought she was going to explode from the feeling—his mouth, his tongue, his fingers moving in complete synchronicity against her. Ever since, she didn’t care if they had five minutes to spare or if Filch was just around the corner— she wanted him between her legs, making her whimper by the softness of his tongue. She wants it so much and so often that it worries her to think that she will feel just as insatiable about another part of his body when the time comes. 

“Is this ok?” He breathes into her inner thigh. Both of them can see the result of desire pooling between her legs and James stares shamelessly, wonder etched across his face. 

“Merlin— you are so wet…because of me?”  

“Don’t be arrogant.” Her voice turns into a moan as he bites down against the uppermost part of her thigh before licking over it to ease any pain. The newfound sight of her arousal awakens an urgency in him and his hands and mouth are moving more erratic against her, trying to take as much of her in as he possibly can.

“Lily, you have no idea. No idea how many nights I’ve thought of you in this bed.”

She can’t help but giggle at the teenage lust of it all. It’s not like she is any better—before they started hooking up she would wake up with her hand already between her legs, body covered in sweat as she broke from the dream of his mouth crawling its way around her chest. 

“Is it better or worse than you imagined?” She quips and his mouth stills. She looks down to catch his gaze burning up at her, a hand hovering dangerously close to her center.

“Don’t even joke Evans.” 

She plans to make another cheeky remark but it’s cut short by his mouth making contact with her knickers. He kisses her through the wet fabric, running his tongue into the grooves of her flesh that he already knows so well. Her back arches for him instinctively and he uses it as leverage to hold her body in a hovered state, fingers circling at the top of her ass. 

“Christ Potter.” She can feel him smile against her as he continues his ministrations, teeth pulling back the side of her knickers and slipping his tongue onto slick skin. The feel of his raw mouth makes her gasp and he lets out a small chuckle, pleased he is capable of making her react so viscerally. 

“You are so lovely, so lovely .” He’s breathing straight inside her and his air makes her body feel feverish. “I don’t know how I deserve you, but I will never never let you go if I can help it.”

A finger slides into her and it takes everything to not let her head fall completely back. She doesn’t want to look away—completely mesmerized by how his tongue works her clit while his fingers twist inside her. He adds another finger and she lets out a cry, happy that his parents are presumably on the other side of the house. 

“James, wait, I—” The feeling builds faster than she can fight it. With one last lick, she is sent over the edge, grasping onto his hair and her legs squeeze around him.

“Oh fuck—Lily—” his eyes are wide, watching as she shudders through the last of her climax. She pulls at his shoulders and he rises back up, wiping his mouth with his shirt. 

“That was incredible—Lily, you taste…I can’t even describe it—” He genuinely looks dumbstruck, sitting beside her. 

She watches him catch his breath, a hand caressing his leg slowly as he smiles back at her. It’s the place they usually stop: where one of both of them is sated by a mouth or a hand before they put their clothes back on and go their separate ways. But tonight, they have nowhere to run off to, no reason to leave things just short of full completion. 

“Lily—” He starts in, but she is already ahead of him. Sitting up, she pulls her jumper over her head and the rush of cold hits her bare breasts. Anything he was about to say gets stuck in his throat at the sight of her.

“Dear sweet Godric–” he breathes out, eyes jumping from one breast to the other.

“Don’t act like you haven’t seen them plenty of times.”

“But I haven’t,” James gives her an incredulous stare, “Between my glasses and the near black of those bloody closets, I might as well be experiencing this for the first time.”

“Well—” Lily stammers, “Seeing as you just, you know, licked me out , my tits are hardly something to—”

James lunges at her, knocking her fully back on the bed. He slots himself between her legs and she can feel his arousal pressing through the fabric and into her waist. 

“Don’t you ever, ever undermine your body like that,” he growls out. A hand slides from her cheek, down her neck, to her clavicle, circling just under one of her breasts but not making contact. 

“Can I—”

“Touch them? Yes.” Lily cuts him off. She’s surprised he is even asking, seeing as he has done it hundreds of times before. 

“No—can I take off my clothes too?” 

Another wave of vulnerability enters the room. They have seen each other in various levels of undress, but never fully and never together .

“I don’t want to push anything—and I know we agreed that this is all just for a laugh, but I just—” He lets his voice get away from him, insecurity getting the best of his thoughts. 

“Is that what you think?” she says quietly, “That I came here, lied to your parents and mine…for a laugh?”

James makes a coughing sound, eyes darting around her face, waiting for an elaboration. 

“You’re right, I have worries about telling our mates for various reasons–” He opens his mouth to interrupt her, but she silences him with a hand on his mouth.

“-But that doesn’t mean that this isn’t real for me. That I don’t want you just as much as you want me.”

He looks down at her, feelings shifting on his face faster than she can read them. 

“Lily, I really fancy you,” he whispers, strained. “And if—if we do something, y’know more , I don’t know if I’ll be able to go back.”

She reaches her hands up to his cheeks and rests them there, fingers catching falling hair out of his face. 

“You say that like I don’t feel the same way,” her pulse quickens, “you say that like you don’t already know that I don’t want to go back.”

His eyes blaze raw and hopeful, and she feels the blood rush through her body, giving her the bravery she needs to move her hands back to his unbuttoned trousers and tug them down. His lips crash onto hers, and she can feel the hard line of his body pressing into her chest as he cups her face with one hand and helps ease his pants off with another. Just as quick, he removes his shirt, letting their bare chests slide together, his skin burning. 

“Lily, Lily, Lily.” He says her name like a lullaby, kissing down the column of her neck until he reaches one of her breasts. Taking her nipple into his mouth, she arches up as his tongue swirls around it, him somehow finding new ways for her to feel impossibly good. 

She can’t get enough of him, the feverish heat of his skin, the sturdy pulse of his body. She knows she is breathing yet it feels like there is not enough air for the two of them, the sound of the storm just adding to the fervent nature of their movements. He is as close to her as he has ever been, but she wants him closer still . 

Pulling off of her slightly, he dips a hand down to unbutton her skirt, pulling it and her knickers down with a tug. Now completely nude, he rises up to look at her, his eyes brimming with awe.

“You are so beautiful.” 

It’s something she’s seen people say in movies, but she can tell the words hold all the sincerity in the world. His eyes are wide, trying to commit every part of her to memory, hand lightly grazing her hip as he takes her in. Satisfied, he drops down to capture her mouth in a searing kiss, a smile evident on his lips. 

���Lily, I meant it, he gasps out when he breaks for air, “What I said earlier—I don’t want anyone else. I never want to lose you.”

“I know,” she breathes against his lips, “good thing you aren’t losing me.”

He closes in for another kiss, his lips soft but urgent, tongue begging to twist with hers. Through the haze she senses some shuffling at their waists until she can feel the bare skin of his arousal pressing in against her, warm and throbbing.

“Wait, I want to see you too.”

She wiggles her way out from under him and he obliges, falling onto his back. It’s her turn to regard him—she thought she knew his body so well already but in the light it takes on a whole new meaning. He is muscular yet slim, something she always thought made him look so effortlessly fit in comparison to his bulking teammates, and she holds back a gasp when she finally sees his cock, hard and erect with the smallest bit of liquid crowning at the tip. 

“I did that?” She says, knowing how childish it sounds.

“Look who is arrogant now,” James teases, squeezing her thigh, “You’re killing me, Evans. C’mere.”

She puts a leg over his hips and settles down against him. His cock slides easily into her folds and both of them hum in approval, now realizing how much better it feels without the barrier of clothes. 

“Are you sure?” 

She doesn’t need to respond, instead rolling her hips forward until she can feel his tip lining up with her entrance. His head falls back, but his eyes refuse to leave hers, the question still hanging between them. 

“Let me lead,” she says, not waiting another second to slide herself onto him. 

A gasp escapes as her body stretches around him, learning to accommodate the new sensation. She stalls, rocking her hips slightly to let the smallest bit of him slide in and out of her, testing the waters before daring to continue further. He grabs onto her thighs, following her rhythm as she moves back and forth, eyes wild and adoring. Deep sighs leave his throat with each small movement, reassuring her to keep going. 

They continue like this until she has pushed him fully inside and their bottom halves connect. Her hips move more languorously now, waving up and down the length of him in steady movements. Her mouth hangs open, trying to take full breaths between the noises that keep pouring out of her mouth with every thrust. 

“James— Christ.”

He leans upwards and takes one of her breasts into his mouth, and she cries from the over stimulation of it all. It feels better than anything she could ever imagine—not even the added pleasures of all their cupboard trysts would equate to the sensation occurring at that moment. They are utterly complete, moving as one. 

James grabs hold of her torso and carefully flips them over without slipping out of her. Now with the upperhand, he is able to press deeper, hitting a ball of nerves tucked deep inside her that makes her stomach clench in ecstasy. 

When he is not moaning hot kisses into her breasts or neck, he is watching her—keeping a steady gaze on her face to make sure that she is enjoying every single moment as much as he is. Strings of words chant out of his mouth—some affirmations, some swears, some just her name over and over until it sounds like a foreign language. 

“Lily, I won’t last much longer, I want you to come for me.”

It’s instinctual. She reaches one hand between her legs to rub the tip of her clit while the other cups the curve of her breast, jutting it outwards as an offering to his mouth. His eyes grow impossibly wider, ducking down to take her tit between his teeth. 

Her second climax is more violent than the first. She can feel herself squeezing around him, her whole body seizing up until it feels like a rubber band in mid snap. He holds her against him, mouth breathing onto her chest as he continues his rhythm through her release. 

“So beautiful, so good, Godric Lily, I can feel it.”

It sends him over the edge. His hips snap forward, now erratic and urgent. Slick with the sweat of her climax, she grabs both of his cheeks and forces him to look at her. His eyes drowning in desire and anticipation. 

“Come for me James—you can come inside me, it's ok.”

“Lily—” He looks unsure, but he’s losing time. She can feel his body quivering over her. 

“I took the potion, I want you to come inside me. Please James.”

“ Lily—-ah.” She feels his release instantaneously. She remarks that it’s weirdly warm and comforting despite it being such a carnal act. 

With a sigh, he collapses on her, hands dancing across her collar bone as he catches his breath into her shoulder. 

“Incredible. You’re just—” he doesn’t finish his thought, opting to press his lips gently into her neck. 

She wraps her arms around him. He’s sweaty and heaving and hers. She had never felt like that about him before even in their most intimate moments, but now it is solidified, maybe not in words but in action. 

Snow makes pattering noises against the windowpane, the wind too slow to dust it off before another blanket appears. They lay in each other’s arms, feeling their heart beats go from wild to steady, hands lazily tracing the other’s skin until they halt into calm. 

“Are you sleeping now?” He whispers into the crook of her neck, his nose nuzzling into her skin. 

“Not yet,” she smiles, a laugh already bubbling up, “Why? You keen on working on that Charms assignment?”

James laughs and the sound cuts through the night air. 

“Not quite.” He raises himself to hover back over her, mouth skimming hers. 

“But I am keen on working on something else.” 

~  ~  ~ 

She awakes exactly how she fell asleep, tangled up in him. At some point in the night he had pulled the blankets over them, and their bodies radiated heat. Her face is pushed into his chest, and one leg is hitched up against his thigh, his fingers contracting in sleep against her ass. 

He must have taken off his glasses at some point in the night, because when she looks up at him, his eyes are unobscured. He has eyelashes much longer than she imagined and his hair falls in unruly tangles around his face. A warmth rises in her chest as she watches his mouth hang slightly open and a moan drift out. 

She doesn’t want it to end. They might be melded together now, but their time is coming to a close—soon she will have to go back to Cokeworth, Sirius will return from his uncle’s, and he will stay in this room with only the memory to keep him company.

They need to talk about what will happen when they return back to Hogwarts, but she lets the thought drift away as he stirs. Blinking his eyes open to look down at her, a lazy, irresistible smile pulls at his lips. 

“Morning.” 

“Morning,” she echoes, giggling at the absurdity of it all. “How did you sleep?”

He leans in and gives a kiss to her forehead, his arm tightening to keep her leg from unwinding around him. 

“Brilliant because you are here…but terribly because every time I woke up I was randy for you all over again.”

She knows he isn’t lying, she can feel the proof of it pressing into her pelvis. 

“Poor you,” she teases. “Sounds like you should do something about it.” She gives him a smile and his face goes alight with happiness. He rolls them over so he is back over her, their lips pressing together with already panting kisses. 

“JAMES DARLING! BREAKFAST IS READY!”

He doesn’t stall, his hand already teasing at her breast and Lily gasping into his mouth. 

“JAMES! YOU AND LILY CAN’T ROLL AROUND ALL DAY— BESIDES I’VE MADE THE POTTER SPECIAL...”

James' eyes rip open and they share a mutual look of embarrassment and horror. Lily can feel her whole body turning red, burrowing her face into his chest. 

“Er—Thanks Dad.” James calls out, voice cracking a little. He looks down at her and lightly brushes some knotted hair out of her eyes. 

“The Potter Special?”

“You’re going to love it,” he pulls her chin up and gives her a soft kiss on the mouth, eyes still dreamy. 

“Before we face death by utter embarrassment at the hands of my parents, can we—”

She threads her hands in his hair, an act now as familiar as blinking.

“I’m not going anywhere, Potter.”

His face nearly breaks in two from a grin and he swoops down to catch her in a fierce, desperate kiss. Around them the room spins, and everything beyond the bed starts to melt away again.  

“Fuck it—I’m not hungry,” he gasps when they part to catch their breaths. Lily's laugh transforms into a moan, feeling his body already lining up against hers. 

“Me either,” she sighs. He presses into her she tugs him closer, savoring him for as long as possible.

 “It can wait.”

[konmics-n-stuff]

Hi, I disagree with your viewpoint a bit (about Tim’s character, absolutely not trying to get into a ship war lol). Just putting this in a reblog cause trying to format it in the comment section would be super messy. Not trying to be rude or start a heated argument or anything, just wanna discuss/debate fiction in a chill manner. And if you want me to take this down I gladly will.

More words under cut:

So, I would argue that Tim had just as much, if not more, of a choice than most of the other characters you mention with respect to his initial choice to be Robin. No one HAD to step in for Batman. And certainly not a random, tween civilian. Bruce had people like Alfred and Leslie Thompkins (and kinda sorta Dick and Babs, maybe even Harold lol) that could have helped. Even if he didn’t, that responsibility does not fall onto the shoulders of a random kid. Tim made a choice to step in because he felt it was the right thing to do; no one forced him. He had no duty; he didn’t even know Bruce.

Additionally, unlike the cases of Dick, Jason, and Damian, he had a perfectly comfortable life with no big personal tragedy. (To the best of my knowledge), crime had never personally impacted him at this point, except for witnessing the Haley’s Circus incident. After Dick turned down becoming Robin again, Tim could have said “ok, I tried” and gone back to his comfortable, (relatively) trauma-free life with his alive parents and his civilian friends.

Obviously he didn’t, but imo that was a freer choice than Damian’s, for example, who lived an early life of violence, stretched between two legacies and feeling obligated to choose one or the other. Damian never really had an opportunity to lead a normal, civilian life like Tim did. He became Robin because, at the time, he saw it as a way to eventually earn the Batman mantle and thus make the most of the Wayne bloodline. With the way he was raised and his general mentality at this point in canon, I would argue that his choice wasn’t between a civilian life or Robin, it was between Robin or assassinhood, and after Talia dropped him off, he couldn’t be an assassin without outright running from Bruce (and thus the legacy that his mother and grandfather spoke highly of and that he had never known). I don’t think it can be considered a free choice.

In the case of Jason, the Robin mantle already existed. He had a horrible childhood and experienced some of the worst that Gotham city had to offer. He was adopted by the Batman, a man that had done this for only one other boy, and that boy was Robin. Of course he felt pressure to do the same and also to make a difference for kids like him. What other choice did he have?

I’ll concede to your point on Bruce. When he started training, Bruce had been personally touched by crime, tragedy, and the general specter of Gotham more than 13-year-old Tim. But at the end of the day, he deliberately created his own superhero mantle, and was the first to do so in Gotham. And he had a cushy life he could’be fallen back on instead. So yeah, I agree with you here.

For Dick, there’s also wiggle room because he was the first ever Robin, but he was ultimately following Batman’s example, not to mention the recent trauma of his parents’ death and how it shaped his worldview. He was already living with Bruce; expecting him to sit idly by while Batman fights men like Tony Zucco is a bit more unreasonable than expecting Tim to keep living his life as normal and not intervening in a strangers’ mental health.

Even once Tim is Robin, he (initially) views being a superhero as a free choice, and one he can and will take back.

Nightwing (vol 2) #6

Tim, to me, is interesting as a character partially because he had every opportunity to continue on as normal and he chose to be selfless. The mundanity of his pre-Robin life alongside his lack of powers stand in contrast to most superheroes. There is no grand event that happens to him in particular to make him a hero. When he makes that choice, he has no Flying Graysons, Thomas and Martha Wayne, or Uncle Ben. He had no personal connection to Bruce, Dick, or Jason, and he still sacrifices the potential for a perfectly happy, average life solely because he wants to help others. That, to me, is a fundamental aspect of his character. If nothing else, that’s what I see as making him Tim.

And yes, Tim does eventually (in the late 00s) come to think (arguably validly) that he has no choice but to continue. I won’t argue that. But that’s certainly not unique to him; most other Batfamily members think like that too, including Bruce. (In your own post, you acknowledge how much worse Gotham is without Batman, and Bruce’s feeling of obligation to Gotham because of that. I think Dick might also think like that, but i haven’t gotten to that part of New Teen Titans yet so I won’t speak with authority). A whole lot of other superheroes have that kinda mindset too.

However, if you’re captivated by the idea of a character that never had that initial choice of becoming a superhero, (and limited connections in the civilian world), I suggest reevaluating Kon-El.

As much as I love TimKon, I prefer TimBern and it's mainly because of this:

“Bernard says I sacrifice myself like it's a bad thing.”

“But it's all I've ever known.”

“All that my family has ever been taught.”

Tim, out of all of the BatFamily members is the one that never really had a choice.

Bruce had a choice to become Batman. He almost retired, until things went badly again and he realized how much more awful Gotham would be if he did.

Dick had a choice to become Robin. When Bruce fired him he could've finished college and lived a normal life, but he chose to continue on as Nightwing.

Jason had a choice to become Robin. And while his mind had been messed with after being dunked in the Lazarus Pit, he had a choice to become Red Hood, too.

Damian had a choice to become Robin. He fought hard for the role, and seems to genuinely enjoy doing it.

Tim didn't have a choice to become Robin. Yes, no one actually forced him into the role, but he saw what had happened to Bruce after Jason's death (such as how he became more violent), and knew that Bruce needed a Robin to keep himself sane. He tried going to Dick, but Dick said the best he could do was help as Nightwing as he wasn't willing to be Robin again. So Tim felt like he had to take up the role, because Batman, his greatest hero, would lose it if he didn't.

Tim also didn't have a choice to give up being a vigilante, unlike the others. When he got replaced as Robin, Bruce was trapped in time and everyone but him thought he was dead. He didn't have Dick's experience of going out soul searching and deciding that being a hero was what he wanted in life, he had to almost immediately take up a new secret identity and start going on missions so he could find out what happened to Bruce.

I love TimBern so much, because Bernard is Tim's connection to civilian life. If you're a hero dating a hero, even when you're being civilians and doing civilian things, there's always going to be the knowledge of who you both are really, and the missions you've been on together (Such as Tim looking at Kon and remembering things like when he tried to clone him because he was ‘dead’). I feel like with Bernard, Tim can be a full on civilian and forget about the hero life for a while, and that makes it special.

Also I just think Bernard is neat :3

[yandere-writer-momo]

The number one fact about me is I’m going to turn my trauma into a story. Especially when someone is obsessed with me. Except I will give it a little razzle dazzle ✨ Name is inspired by Kylar from DOL. ✨

Reader can be female, male, or gender neutral but tags include all three

Yandere Head Canons: I Want To Be Just Like You

Yandere Platonic female x GN reader

TW: concerning behaviors that should not be romanticized, psychological horror, obsession, stalking, unhealthy relationship/ friendship, and uncomfortable themes

Kylar had always sat alone since elementary school. She was always seen as rather… eccentric and you had felt sorry for her.

And you made the biggest mistake of your life by sitting with her on that cold, rainy Tuesday in November. By reaching a hand out to someone who had never felt warmth in their life and would do anything to keep it. All due to your empathetic nature

It started off small by Kylar wanting to have matching bracelets with you. Then it was the same clothing. And then the same cut and color of your hair… and as the years went on, her obsession with you snowballed into her becoming you

You were dating someone? Kylar was dating someone! You were going to college? Kylar was admitted to the same one! You were getting a new car? Kylar bought the same car in the same color.

Kylar didn’t have any other friends but you. You. You. You. Kylar had no need for anyone else because the two of you would be together forever and ever! That’s what bff meant and she was never going to let you stray! Those new college friends could never be as close to you as she was. You two were basically sisters…

You two were like siblings. Two peas in a pod. Whatever you did, she wanted to do. Whenever you went, she wanted to go! Don’t you get it? Kylar couldn’t live without you! She needed to be as close to you as possible… she needed to crawl inside your ribcage and make a home. Being your best friend wasn’t enough. She needed to be you

You never noticed her alarming behavior until another friend pointed it out to you. How odd it was that Kylar’s entire personality was a near complete copy of yours.

You never thought of it as weird. Most best friends have extremely similar likes and dislikes… and boyfriends… and hair cuts/ colors… and hobbies- okay. This wasn’t normal at all. There was nothing normal about this friendship.

So you tried to gently let Kylar down by telling her you need a bit of space… which did not go well at all. She acted as if you killed she first born and it made her obsession even worse. Kylar clung to you like a tick

You found her showing up to your house in the early hours of the morning to walk to class together. She was at every bar you went to with other friends and she would try to worm her way into your friend group

When that didn’t work and you only put more space between the two of you, she became aggressive. Your new friends were putting poison in your head. She would not let them get between the two of you. She would not be abandoned by her favorite person in this sick world.

So she began to dox them on the internet. Kylar made multiple fake account to cyber bully your other friends. She needed you to be alone again so you could be with her. You don’t need anyone else… you only needed her and her friendship.

So why were you still not talking to her when all those friends dropped one by one? Weren’t you lonely? She’d be there! Just unblock her and she’d crawl into your life and sew herself to you! You two could be conjoined twins! Wouldn’t that be nice?

Poor Kylar failed to realize that you were scared of her… and she never would because she was far too delusional.