#where did that even COME from and why are you spewing this idea to us .

[nyamcot]

People who think covid is over or that it isnt real arent gonna survive the winter btw

[torasplanet]

❝𝙅𝙀𝘼𝙇𝙊𝙐𝙎 𝙎𝙇𝙐𝙏.ᐟ❞

PLUG!E. YEAGER + BIMBO!F. READER ft. PLUG!C. SPRINGER

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 ; you wanna get jealous over some crack whore and show your ass to connie? fine but now you gotta ride eren while connie watches. have fun.

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 ; riding, slight degradation, unprotected sex, drabble, overstimulation, p in v, exhibition, mean!eren, mean!connie, threesome(mentioned), drugs, high sex, dacryphilia, cuckolding w armin(mentioned), college au, skin color not mentioned, ib

It didn’t bother Eren that much when you sat in the backseat of his car with a pout on your face while watching him deal to a dope-feen bitch who was touching all on his forearm, he could see where you were coming from and couldn’t get mad at you for being jealous, he just found it silly that you were getting upset over a crack whore who he didn’t even spare another glance after handing her the drugs she asked for.

You sitting there with a pout and your arms crossed against your chest ignoring him when he tried to talk to you didn’t bother him either. Eren was used to your fucked up attitude by now and just reminded himself to take care of that later so it didn’t lead to a petty argument.

However…what did bother him was when you purposely dropped five dollars on the ground on your way to the gas station store while he was busy practically showing your entire ass and lace panties to Connie who sat in his passenger seat after you begged him to give you money so you could get whatever fucking candy you asked for after ignoring him for the majority of the ride. That shit bothered him a lot, he considered asking Connie to handle the deal he was currently working on and getting out of the car dragging your ass back to the car by your hair, and teaching you not to fuck with him right there but no…he had a better idea. And that idea would come into play right now.

“‘Ren c’mon! My legs hurt…” You whined out planting your hands on Eren's chest as you sat on his lap on the couch with him eight inches deep inside of you, you had already come twice and your legs were aching! It wasn’t fair how he wasn’t letting you have a break! The brunette man simply looked up at you with his red-lidded eyes exhaling smoke into your precious face which was covered in tears and your ruined makeup, he passed the blunt in his hand back to Connie who sat on the other side of the couch watching the whole ordeal with a grin on his face “Hell no, you’re gonna fuck yourself out right in front of Connie since you love showing your ass to him right?” Eren said as you gazed down at him with watery eyes, it wasn’t a question, it wasn’t even a statement you were supposed to respond to because no matter what you said, it’d just end in him giving a slap to your ass.

But unfortunately, you weren’t thinking, not at all this entire night but you never did “No! I don’t, only for you ‘rennie!” Connie snickered at your pathetic statement as more tears spewed from your eyes, you turned your head and glared at him which just made him laugh even more, you looked so pathetic. Completely naked while they were both fully dressed, sobbing, and now you were glaring at him? You looked like a kicked puppy more than anything.

Eren sat up straight at your words before gripping your jaw and turning your head to face him, you could now feel his breath on your face from how close you two were “Then explain to me why you acted like a stupid whore showing my pussy to him?” His green eyes stared daggers into your soul as you stood there looking down at him silent, you didn’t have anything to say. He knew why and if you said anything about it he’d probably torture you more for being a ‘jealous slut’ that’s how he would say it.

He narrowed his eyes at you once more before letting go of your face harshly making a sob escape your throat “That’s what I thought, now keep going.” Eren demanded slapping his hand on the soft flesh of your ass making even more tears escape your eyes and flow down the apples of your cheeks.

You glanced at Connie for help but he did nothing but hit the blunt while remaining in eye contact with you, you whined as you continued to ride him tiredly trying your best to ignore the pain in your legs. You hoped this didn’t lead to a threesome, they would be so mean to you! Armin wouldn’t just sit there and let this happen. He’d help you and tell Eren to relax and that you didn’t deserve it! Having Armin watch was way better than dumb Connie!

A combination of moans and sobs were let out into the air as you lazily rode Eren, your back arching when he hit just the right spot as the two men acted liked you weren’t even there casually talking and passing the blunt back and forth, that might’ve hurt more than your legs. Eren knew from experience that you lived off attention, you were like a Tinkerbell, if you didn’t get the attention you would just die and he was refusing to give you that. What a dick!

Wet sounds filled the room along with their chatting that you didn’t care enough to listen to, that’s if you even had enough in you to hear anything “Ngh! ‘Rennie!” You were nearing your breaking point cumming for a third time and Eren wasn’t letting you stop anytime soon, every time you even halted your movements slightly, he’d slap you on your ass or give you a glare that scared you enough to keep going but everything was too much and you stopped completely leaning forward and collapsing on his body continuing to cry loudly.

“Fuck are you stopping for?” Eren said rudely pushing your limp body off his looking at you with hate and disgust hurting your feelings even more than he already had “Too tired…please m’ sorry!” Eren didn’t even react to your pleas as you banged your balled-up fists on his chest tiredly to get him to sympathize with you somehow even just a little bit “Too fucking bad.” Eren responded, “Hold on bro, maybe she just needs a lil’ sum’ to help her.” Connie said with a laugh before standing and walking over to you, he grabbed your jaw with his hand before putting the blunt to your lips as you looked up at him your puffy eyes. He almost came in his pants right there at the sight of you.

He and Eren watched as you inhaled before Connie took the blunt away from your mouth, the springer male leaned closer to press your lips together but Eren kicked his kneecap making the gray-eyed boy look at his friend with a scowl “Fuck was that for Eren?” You watched the ordeal as you exhaled the smoke out of your nose just glad Eren wasn’t focused on making you continue, eren didn’t really like sharing. Especially sharing you but the idea of threesomes appealed to him as long as the other person didn’t kiss you.

“I ain’t even let Armin kiss her, what makes you think you can?” The Yeager man questioned making Connie scoff before he plopped back down to his spot on the couch grumbling something about Eren being too damn possessive to have threesomes. Eren’s head then turned back to you looking at you with the same lidded eyes that have been giving you little attention all night “Lemme tell you sum’ pretty…” He whispered sitting up again and getting close to your face, he gave you a small peck on your lips making you whine. You wanted more than just a stupid peck, small kisses are for cheeks not for lips.

You looked down at him with teary eyes as you tried not to let them spill out as Eren would probably laugh if you did “If you stop again, you’re not cummin’ for weeks.” The statement made your jaw drop and your eyes widen, the sobbing continued as you heard Connie cackle loudly “Better get moving jealous slut.” You pouted at the statement as they were the exact words you thought eren would call you while your salty tears dropped down onto Eren’s white tee, with these two, this night was never going to end.

©torasplanet .ᐟ reblogs and likes are very appreciated! pls do not repost!!

[thelov3lybookworm]

Hello, there! First of all, i must say tha I love your writing style.

I had this idea on my mind, and I was wondering if you could write something about it.

It's an Eris x reader, where the reader is traveling from another world and falls in velaris, Eris finds her nearby, looking confused and trying to help her, but she can't understand his language.

I would love it if you'd write something like that, and I was hoping in a possible love triangle, with angst and happy ending for Eris.

Sorry for any mistake. I hope that you understand, English it's not my first language

Our World (part 1)

Summary: The dark opening in the sky.

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: lol i just realised that i forgot the language difference part so they are all talking to and understanding each other. also sorry for the delay 😭ive never written anything like this or even thought about it, so it was a lil bit of a challenge to write this, but we've at least started!

anyways

enjoy! ❣️

•○🌑○•

The weird, dark and gaping hole on the pavement looked weird. Like it did not belong.

Even under the night sky, in the alleyway shrouded in shadows, it looked sinister.

That did not stop Y/n from leaning close to inspect it.

And then, being her clumsy self, she could not stop herself from toppling into it.

•○🌑○•

The weird, dark opening in the night sky looked different, like it did not belong in the darkened sky.

Even in the moonless night, it looked sinister.

That did not stop Eris from trying to peer into it.

But it did stop Eris from advancing further when a noise started coming from it. Like someone screaming.

Not too long after, something- no, someone- fell from it.

Eris stared, bewildered, as the figure groaned, stretching out their limbs, lifting their head amid the fallen leaves in the dense forests of the night court.

He had been visiting Velaris for a meeting, and had decided to take a small walk to clear his mind of the bullshit Rhysand had spewed before he returned to the Autumn Court.

And then he had stumbled across the clearing that looked darker than its surroundings, and he had paused to wonder what abomination he would come across.

And now this- this creature, whatever it was, covered with a white cloth that barely reached their knee and a red, soft, velvet like hat on their head, had almost taken down Eris.

And then the creature moved some more, and Eris realised that it was a female. And by the looks of it, mortal. Though her beauty could rival that of the fae females' beauty.

Eris threw that thought to the back of his mind just as her eyes met his while she was trying to shove her hair out of her face.

Despite his curiosity, he gave her one of his disgusted sneers.

She did a double take, her eyes widening.

She stared and stared at Eris, her eyes bewildered. And then she stared some more, as if her eyes had been glued to his immaculately dressed form.

It made Eris a little uncomfortable, and that was saying something, as he was someone who was used to being stared at all the time.

When her eyes remained unwavering, he spat. "What?"

She blinked, her cheeks flushing. "I- you- were you in a play? Why are you dressed like that?"

He rose his brows, incredulous. "What the hell do you mean?"

She scrambled to her feet, and Eris looked away when her dress rode up a little.

Eris was disgusted with himself when he realised that his heart was beating a little faster.

"You- you're dressed up as some... some noble. Am I interrupting a play or something?"

Eris sighed, then walked over to her. "Who the hell are you? Why are you here in Prythian, cause you sure as hell look like you belong in some whore world."

The female gaped at him, her bright eyes enraged. "What the hell is wrong with you! Why would you say that?!"

Despite her angry words, she tugged on the ends of the rag she was wearing, subconsciously trying to cover up.

Before he could speak, leaves crunched behind Eris, and he rolled his eyes, hard, as he removed his jacket and draped it over the pretty female. He had just done adjusting it, trying to ignore her curious and angry eyes when he spoke.

"What is going on here?" The menacing form of the shadowsinger appeared from behind a tree, his wings flared slightly in a show of dominance. He glared at Eris. "Why are you not gone yet?"

"Those are wings!" The female behind Eris mumbled to herself in shock, but Eris ignored her.

Eris gave the shadowsinger a smirk. "Well, looks like we have a problem."

Azriel rose a brow, turning his eyes to the female behind Eris.

"Didn't know you had a thing for outdoor fucking Eris."

A strangled choke came from behind Eris, and it became harder to hide his amusement.

"What do you mean?!"

Azriel rose an unamused brow. "What, are you not being paid?"

"I- you- die!"

Azriel blinked, shocked. He glanced to Eris curiously. "Where'd you find her?"

"I'm trying to figure that out too."

Azriel opened his mouth to speak, but Eris shook his head. "I need to speak to Rhys."

Without much fuss, Azriel accepted.

"Let's go."

•○🌑○•

Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392 @kennedy-brooke @tele86 @miluiel1 @hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter @piceous21 @mybestfriendmademe @berryzxx

Taglist: @fell-in-luvs @azrielsmate3

[starogeorgina]

Twin flames

Warning: Age gap relationship, smut, swearing

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen × Reader

1.04

“Bastards or not, Rhaenyra’s sons are still just children; you can’t possibly think they deserve such slander!”

Aemond gives you a death glare. The queen, in all her wisdom, had tricked you into spending time with Aemond by inviting you to join her for supper in her chambers; she even had your favourite cake specifically made for the occasion. Under the impression that Helaena would be joining you as well, you said yes. But it was a fib; Helaena was nowhere to be found, and you were now left feeling awkward sitting across from your mother and brother. As expected, your mother shared her disdain for your uncle's plans of staying in King's Landing being made public, but the conversation quickly turned to her talking poorly of Rhaenyra, and Aemond jumped at the chance to slander Prince Lucerys.

“Enough!” Your mother looks between you and Aemond, shaking her head. “This pointless arguing ends here. It’s time you started to behave like husband and wife.”

Knowing where this conversation would lead next, you wanted nothing more than to tell your mother to shove the idea of your producing heirs with Aemond, but you bite your tongue instead. There was once a time you would have done your duty and relished having a baby of your own, but now the thought of laying with Aemond physically makes your skin crawl. Dark circles hung under your mother's eyes, and the skin around her fingernails was red and raw. She has been stressed again, which was the only reason you chose a different approach than arguing.

You sigh, “I’m not having this conversation again.”

You stand to leave, but she grips the sleeve of your pale blue dress, giving you a pleading look, and says, “I believe Aemond has something he’d like to say.”

You look to your husband, waiting for him to either spew venom or put on a fake display of kindness to make it appear like he cares for the sake of your mother. But when he says nothing, you turn and leave.

—

“Be gentle, Tyvaros,” you say, motioning for Lady Rhaena to come closer. You take her hand and place it on the side of your head. Tyvaros made a loud grunting noise before leaning into her touch.

Despite his frightful appearance, Tyvaros reminded you of a kitten during the times you were alone; he purred while nuzzling his nose into your embrace. You couldn’t imagine not having your black beauty in your life; you were convinced one half of your soul completely belongs to him. Which is why you felt for Rhaena so much; it must have been awful not having that connection.

“I’m surprised my father allowed me to get this close; how did you convince him?”

“I think he said yes just so I’d stop asking him.”

You both chuckled. You kissed Tyvaros before stepping back to let him fly off to go hunt. The strong winds from the flaps of his large wings cause dirt to swirl in the air. You cover your face with your hands to stop anything from going in your eyes. When Daemon finally caved and said he would allow you to introduce his daughter to your dragon but not ride him just yet, When Tyvaros started to look small in the distance, you began to start walking back towards the keep.

You smile as your fingers brush over the necklace sitting on your collarbone. Since his daughters came to King's Landing, Daemon has been a lot happier, although his relationship with your father still seems strained.

“Are you coming to Dragonstone with us?” Rhaena asks. “Because if you are, I think I should fly on dragon back with you.”

“I don’t think your father will agree,” you snorted. “And I am unsure if I’ll be able to accompany you on your trip. I’m traveling to old town to see my brother, Daeron.”

She pouts, “Baela really wants you to come with us as well, and I know it would mean a lot to my father. He’s really taken with you; he values your friendship.”

You smile at her. Both of Daemon’s daughters were smart, kind, and beautiful, much like their mother was. You only vaguely remember meeting Lady Laena once when you were much younger, visiting her brother at court. She was very beautiful, from what you recall, and not only held strong feelings towards your uncle but Rhaenyra as well.

Over the past few months, Daemon has shown you more and more affection. He gave you pearls, silks, and books as gifts, along with a jade tiara that once belonged to the empress of Leng. He read poems to you in High Valyrian and dined with you often, either alone or accompanied by his daughters. You’d race each other on dragon back, sneak out of the keep at night, and under disguise go and see a play or drink in a tavern, happy to spend time together without being watched over. Your feelings for your uncle had become more romantic, but you tried your best not to let on.

Rhaena steps in front of you and says, “Please.”

“Well, I suppose I’d be rather lost without my two favorite ladies keeping me company. I shall see what I can do.”

Happy that she’s convinced you, Rhaena beams at you before skipping ahead. Traveling to Dragonstone with them was tempting; you’d never been before and wished to get to know your eldest sibling, Rhaenyra, but knowing the reaction you’d receive from your mother, brother, and grandsire was enough to cause you pause.

—

Your finger glides along the dusty bookcase in the library that is hardly ever used. When you reach the small table next to the only window in the room, you sit down and begin to read. Moments later, you’re joined by your uncle. “I heard my daughters finally wore you down and that you’re coming with us to Dragonstone.”

For the last two days, Baela and Rhaena had persistently begged for you to join them; both young girls were excited to visit their cousins and desperately wanted you to go as well. “Unfortunately, I don’t think I will be able to travel with you.”

“Why not?”

“I believe I'm going to travel to old town to visit my brother and some lords on the queen's behalf.”

Daemon snaps the book in his hand shut and says, “Fuck the lords.”

You chewed on your bottom lip while lowering your head to look at the book open on the table, but you’d lost your place, and trying to find it again was difficult with your uncle's gaze burning into you. Gulping it down, you pretend not to notice how intensely he’s staring. You didn’t want to admit the real reason you were hesitant to go.

“Ñuha zaldrītsos, what is it?”

Shaking your head, you say, “I cannot say; you’ll think it’s pathetic.”

Across the table, he chuckles and says, “I doubt that.”

You place a fabric bookmark in between the pages so you don't lose your place and close the book in front of you, knowing you aren’t going to finish it any time soon. “The last time I saw my nephews was when Aemond lost his eye and my mother did what she did.”

Daemon's eyes softened. “And?”

“What if Rhaenyra doesn’t accept me? I know how cruel my side of the family, ‘the greens’,have treated her and her sons.”

“You're scared she will reject you?”

You nod.

Daemon rubs circles on the back of your thumb. “Why does it matter to you what she thinks?”

“Because she’s my sister, and my father loves her so much. I know it would mean the world to him if Rhaenyra had someone on her side; he worries that she’s lonely.”

He sighs, “I promise you Rhaenyra won’t turn you away; she craves a family unit.”

“You can’t possibly promise that.”

“You’re nothing like your mother. Rhaenyra would accept you and your siblings into her life, aside from that insufferable one-eyed cunt.”

“Wow,” you say, raising your brows. “That’s the first time you’ve not called both Aemond and Aegon cunts, only Aemond.”

“Hmm. We are leaving in the morrow; I’d like your decision by night so I can let my daughters know beforehand.”

“Lady Rhaena insists she’s riding on Tyvaros with me to Dragonstone.”

“Absolutely not.”

Hearing the sudden sharp tone in his voice caused you to smile. You loved seeing Daemon so protective of his twins. Thinking of his sweet girls, you finally make a decision. You stand to leave it before you go. You lean down and kiss Daemon on the cheek. “Thank you, Kepus; I will see you tonight.”

—

A knot twists in your stomach as you approach your brother's chambers. The walk seemed longer than usual as your mind raced with all the different ways Aemond might react to you travelling to Dragonstone with your uncle, but during this time of day he often had tea with your mother most days so he wouldn’t be alone while receiving the news.

Ser Criston’s eyes widen slightly when he notices you, “princess.”

“Ser Criston, I hope you are well this evening.”

He opens his mouth to say something but quickly closes it. Pressing his lips together tightly, he looks hesitant as he opens the door.

“Thank you,” you say, walking by him. It was unusual for the knight to not engage with you, and you also found it strange that he hung his head low.

Your eyes scan the room, and you freeze when you finally spot Aemond, your husband, fucking one of his whores. She was bent over on his bed as he thrust into her from behind.

Like a dog taking a bitch.

You slowly back away before turning and running out of the room. Strangely enough, you didn’t feel hurt or upset at seeing your husband fucking another woman; however, you did feel like a fool. A fool who had been holding back on her own feelings and desires to try and maintain some level of respect and dignity in her marriage, but no more.

From now on, you’ll be chasing your own desires.

—

You smile politely at the knight, who opens the door leading into your uncle's quarters. Walking further into it, you frown, noticing he is nowhere to be seen.

“Zaldrītsos, I didn’t think you’d come.”

Daemon smirks, walking closer to you from the balcony, dressed in only his briefs. You swallowed hard; he truly was gorgeous. “You’ve cut your hair.”

“I have. Did you come to a decision?”

You don’t answer him; instead, you grab his face, pulling him close enough to press your lips against his. Daemon seems taken aback by your actions but quickly kisses you back. He wraps his arms around your waist, lifting you from the ground slightly. You attempt to wrap your legs around his waist, but your dress restricts your movements. Grinning into the kiss, Daemon lifts you even higher, his hands grabbing your bum while he walks you backwards until your back hits the wall.

“I’m guessing that you’re coming?” He asks between kisses pressed to your neck.

“Yes, I’ll go with you.”

Daemon kisses along your jawline before sliding to his knees. Now kneeling in front of you, his hands caress the back of your legs. Slowly, he raises his hands up your legs until they grip the bottom of your skirts. Your breath hitches in your throat as he maintains eye contact. As the cold air sends shivers down your spine, he licks a strip up your thigh. You practically snatch the fabric from him and bunch your skirts up so he can make use of both hands.

Your free hand scrapes across his scalp as Daemon removes your small cloth with his teeth. Your heart rattles in your chest with nerves, knowing this is the first time another person is going to see you this vulnerable. One of Daemon’s hands slid between your legs, rubbing between your wet folds. After teasing you for a few moments, he pushes one finger inside of you.

You moan at the strange sensation, “Gods, Daemon!”

He gives you time to adjust before starting to slowly work his finger inside you before adding another. His tongue flicks against your clitoral area as his thick fingers scissor inside you, bringing you pleasure you never thought possible. Soon your legs begin to feel terrible as the coil in your lower stomach snaps, and you scream Daemon’s name as he gives you his first orgasm.

Smirking, he kisses up your clothed body, cheekily nipping at your breast before gently pressing his lips against your own. The taste of you on him was intoxicating. Daemon nuzzles into your neck. “My sweet girl, I will show you every pleasure possible if you allow me to.”

“Yes,” you pant, still coming down from your high. You reach for Daemon’s breeches and attempt to untie them, but Daemon stops.

“We have all the time in the world to fuck for love and pleasure. But tonight, tonight is about only you, my little dragon.”

The only reply that falls from your mouth is a loud moan as Daemon begins to suck and nip at your neck while his hands begin to loosen the fabric covering your breasts.

—

𝘈 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱, 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘺 𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘳𝘶𝘱𝘵𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨'𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘩, 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳.

“𝘈𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘢 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘸𝘯, 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘤𝘶𝘯𝘵. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘥, 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳; 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘈𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘢𝘨𝘦. 𝘏𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘈𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘢 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩��� 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘴.”

“𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥?” 𝘝𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘴 𝘢𝘴��𝘴, 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘤𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘋𝘢𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱.

“𝘜𝘯𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰, 𝘐’𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘢𝘺 𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳.” 𝘋𝘢𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳'𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭. 𝘐𝘵 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘢𝘭 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥, 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘪𝘵𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘳𝘨𝘶𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘢𝘺. “𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘈𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘢’𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦. 𝘔𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘭𝘺, 𝘢𝘴 𝘥𝘰 𝘐.”

𝘝𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘴 𝘳𝘶𝘣𝘴 𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦. 𝘏𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮. 𝘏𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘋𝘢𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘸 𝘪𝘵 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦. “𝘏𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘈𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘢 𝘪𝘧 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘈𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘦𝘯𝘥? 𝘖𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧, 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶?”

𝘋𝘢𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘦𝘫𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘪𝘦𝘤𝘦; 𝘩𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘈𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘢 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥. 𝘋𝘰𝘶𝘣𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘺, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘈𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘢 𝘪𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘦𝘭; 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘬𝘦𝘱𝘵 𝘴𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘪𝘧 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘮.

𝘚𝘶𝘳𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘺, 𝘝𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘳𝘺 𝘢𝘵 𝘋𝘢𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯; 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘈𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘢. 𝘐𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘵, 𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘋𝘢𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯, 𝘝𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘦. 𝘐𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘋𝘢𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘯 𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦. “𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘙𝘩𝘢𝘦𝘯𝘺𝘳𝘢?”

𝘋𝘢𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘺𝘴, “𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘐 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶? 𝘕𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘙𝘩𝘢𝘦𝘯𝘺𝘳𝘢!”

𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘱 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘦, 𝘬𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘱 𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘴𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴. 𝘋𝘢𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘴 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮; 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘯𝘰 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘮 𝘝𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘺, 𝘺𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘧 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘢 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩.

𝘝𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯, 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴. “𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘯𝘰𝘸. 𝘏𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 ��𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴; 𝘪𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘸.”

“𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯’𝘵 𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳; 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯.”

“𝘋𝘢𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯!” 𝘝𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴, 𝘵𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘰. “𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘨𝘶𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘺 𝘮𝘦.”

“𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘈𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘢 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘴.”

“𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘥𝘶𝘤𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳? 𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘪𝘳𝘬 𝘮𝘦? 𝘜𝘴𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘖𝘵𝘵𝘰’𝘴 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯?”

“𝘉𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳! 𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳…”

Zaldrītsos - Little dragon

Ñuha zaldrītsos - My little dragon

Kepus- Uncle

[bandgie]

Soulful | Armageddon Event

Request: Gratitude | Kim Hongjoong (ATZ) by anon song!

warnings: MDNI18+, fem!reader, choking (brief), reader is a priestess, PIV, no protection, pussy play (brief), finger sucking (m!), no idea if this counts as blasphemy?, cumming inside, crying (f!)

notes! I've said it once and ill say it again, writing for Hongjoong is so hard for me. ya'll don't understand

2.9k words

Beg. Beg on your knees if you must. Until the skin on your bones is raw and red, kneel for forgiveness.

The high priestess’s words swirl in your brain until the words twist into pleas. The marble beneath is usually comforting on your skin. It should bring you peace, and some tranquility, but you’re filled with dread. It eats at your stomach and heart until it closes around your throat. The cold floor does nothing to soothe you, nothing at all. 

And the statue of him. His sculpted face peering down at the altar, where you kneel, is suffocating.

Being a priestess means to live a life of solitude. To be unwed, untouched, and unable to experience the fleshy pleasures of life - it’s something not anybody is willing to give up. You thought you could do it. You thought you weren’t just anybody. There wasn’t a mortal man worth devoting your life to, but even you succumb to the touch of one.

And when you confessed, to your high priestess no less, she looked mortified. You were sure you’d be exiled from the temple, but she convinced you to spew your sins on the altar.

Only the Lord can determine your punishment now. Pray that Lord Hongjoong takes mercy on your soul.

He won't. You know he won’t. He was the only deity you promised your life to. You swore it. The salvation of your soul was traded for a man whose name you can’t recall.

How could you?

The question rings so loud you think it echoes in the empty sanctuary. The voice comes from your consciousness, you’re sure, and with your tears pouring it’s near impossible to know it’s the statue that spoke.

Your head is down, your puffy eyes are closed, and you’re gasping for air as you cry. The quiet steps are unheard, and it’s when you feel a presence that you finally look up.

“How could you?”

He stands in front of you now, flesh and bone rather than the hard marble you’re so used to seeing.

Instincts kick in. You throw yourself back and shrink with wide, teary eyes peering up. It’s hard to tell with blurry vision, but you know who it is. His chiseled face and the curve of his upper lip that frowns tell you everything.

Maybe him being materialized in front of your very eyes should fill you with fear, but the presence of a God only fills you with wonder and adoration.

Until you remember why he’s here in the first place. 

“I-,” you gasp for air. “I didn’t mean to.”

He tilts his head to the side, eyes growing confused. “You didn’t mean to? You wanted to. Did you not?”

You scramble on your knees, crawling to his feet. “I-I did. But I didn’t know it would make me fall from grace like this.” It’s so hard to talk. Your voice is thick with tears and just remembering how his hands trailed upon your nude body makes you shiver in disgust.

Conviction. You’re feeling conviction.

“You cannot beg for forgiveness and lie to me in the same breath. I detest that.” Hongjoong’s face twists into the first signs of disgust.

You whimper. “No- No I would never…It is you I’ve committed myself to. I had- I had a moment of weakness. I let my skin be shown, be- be touched in a way I’ve sworn never to be touched. I’m so ashamed.”

Tears drip onto his feet. The cries you’ve tried to keep at bay finally free. It sounds like you’re choking, drowning in a sea of misery and guilt that you’ve put yourself in.

When his hand comes into contact with the back of your head, you shiver. A God’s touch can make you feel at ease, and that’s exactly what Hongjoong does as he kneels on one leg.

“N-No.” You look at his eyes with your own. “You mustn't touch the ground. It’s dirty.”

But his hand slides to your cheek, ignoring your concern. His face is close to yours, but his smooth, clear skin is nothing compared to his eyes. They stare into yours: seeing, understanding, feeling.

“You truly are sorry.”

You’re unsure if you’re supposed to touch him, but you grip his wrist anyway. “I am. I will be sorry my entire life and beyond. I’ve broken our promise like it meant nothing, like my oath meant nothing. It is…it is me who is nothing.”

The fact hits you hard. Your only reason for living was to worship him and you’ve ruined it. Even if he does banish you from the temple, if you become nothing more than a disgraced priestess, you’ll spend your years begging for forgiveness.

He’s scanning your face. You know he can see your dried tears this close, the redness in your eyes, the flush in your cheeks, but you don’t care. He is the only one to see you this way, now and always. 

Hongjoong eyes slide to your neck. “You’ve been soiled.”

Tears sting your eyes again, but you can fight them back. “I have.”

His gaze goes lower and lower until you lay back for him with the cool floor on your forearms while he crawls over you. “And you still want to serve me.” It’s not a question, but a fact. You don’t have to nod, you both know the answer.

“Humans always sin. It is but a part of nature. Just as birds sing and bees buzz, humans will sin.” Hongjoong’s body is warm on top of yours. He’s pushed you back until you lay on the floor, hair sprawled and gown ridden up indecently, but you know he will love you whole just as you love him.

His fingers trail over your throat and down your neck. His touch leaves goosebumps in their wake, and you inhale a shaky breath.

“I know this and yet, I despise his body on yours. You promised yourself to me.”

This time when you shiver, it’s not the repulsion from remembering, but excitement of something more. “I…I still am. I always will be.”

Something in the air shifts. You can taste possession on your tongue, something dark in this Divine being stirring the atmosphere.

The wrath of a God. 

“Not just in spirit.” Hongjoong’s eyes are dark. “But in mind, soul, and body. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

You nod. “I do.”

“This life you live will change. Devotion is all that you will know, no more devil's temptation. You will belong to me in every way.”

With shaky hands, you grab a hold of his wrist on your neck. You bare your throat to him and look at the painted ceiling. “I already do, my God.”

He squeezes. A small gasp of air catches in your throat as his free hand trails to your hip. The pressure is comforting, almost addicting when his fingers dig into your flesh.

Your white gown feels lighter. You can’t look down to see what’s happening, but you can feel how the material moves and rips until the pieces shred into lumps of thread beside you.

Now you’re truly bare to him. The air makes your nipple harden, but you hardly feel cold. Everything is warm, down to your skin to the bones. How Hongjoong constricts your airway isn’t painful, but delightful. You like the fuzzy feeling, the way your vision blackens until all you can see is his glowing body.

But when he releases, you feel how you pant for air. His touch goes further until he settles with the plush of your stomach.

There are marks, you realize. Bruises and bites from your night of sin. You wait for the disgust. For Hongjoong to scrunch his nose and turn you away, yet, he doesn’t. His slender fingers press into the marks instead, the first sliver of pain he’s given you. You whine at the pressure and hide behind your arms.

“You have him on you still. It defiles you.” Maybe Hongjoong can feel the worry rolling off you because he quickly says, “I am not mad. You will be cleaned. Filled with holiness.”

You finally dare to peek from your arms and you're stunned to see him nude. The slip he wears is no more and it’s a broad chest with etched lines on his stomach that you gawk at.

It might be his power that opens your legs, or maybe it’s your own volition, but you tremble for the first time in fear. Your experience with sex is insignificant and it was rather…bearable than it was enjoyable. Even living with only women, you still could hear the whispers about the pleasures of sex. It didn’t tickle your fancy back then, but as you got older and realized what magic your hands could do in the late night…

Not that it matters. Sex in itself was a lie. You did not feel joyous or ‘glow’ as some ladies said they did. It was rather sad how he up and left, leaving you to replay the touches and uncomfortable feeling between your legs by yourself.

And although Hongjoong keeps you warm and promises to keep you by his side even with all your sins, you worry.

His cock settles over your stomach. A flush pink tip that rests below your belly button. Perhaps it’s indecent, but you stare. Your cunt clenches at the thought of him inside and you see his cock twitch.

He must be thinking the same thing.

Hongjoong lifts the underside of your thighs in his grasp, making sure to keep you spread so he can see your folds glisten.

“So beautiful,” he hums. One hand glides down to your pussy, thumb touching your clit gently. You sigh when he adds pressure, rubbing his digit in circles so you can writhe and moan.

You feel his thumb dip. It prods your entrance, dipping in with ease before sliding out to smear your arousal on your clit. “I know you taste as good as you look.” Hongjoong doesn’t pull his thumb away, not so soon. He swirls it on your swollen button, flicking the flesh up and down to see your cunt ooze more slick.

The warmness on your skin seeps into your stomach. You were always shy playing with yourself, but to watch your God do it so smoothly and almost entertained has that warmth bubbling into something more.

Hongjoong pulls away, tongue reaching out to his finger like he can’t wait for it to land in his mouth. His lips purse and his cheeks hollow slightly. You can see his tongue lapping on his thumb, over the tip and pad of his finger.

Your clit jolts, imagining that it’s the one being licked. You can’t look away from him as you think of his eyes looking over your breasts instead. Gods are one to work dutifully. Although you’ve never been tasted in such a way, you can imagine Hongjoong can do it properly.

His tongue wouldn’t only play with your clit, opting to suck and hold it in his mouth tenderly. It’s there that he would lavish your nub. In the warmth of his mouth, wet and hot. You would plead with him to give your pussy kisses. His lips would feel soft against your own.

A wet pop! makes you snap out of your thoughts. Hongjoong is looking at you as if he knows your thoughts are filled with fantasies, but he only smiles. “You look as though you’re standing at the gates of heaven.”

You reach for him, grabbing onto his thick thighs beside you. “And if I say I am? I feel as though it’s true.” Your eyes unfocus for a moment, anxiety washing over you again. “But…”

His grip tightens. “But?”

How silly you feel with a God between your legs, but you can’t help but ask, “Will it hurt?”

You feel like a fool when his smile turns into a laugh. You wish to hide behind your forearms again, but he intertwines his fingers with yours. “You ask as if you’ve never done this. This is exactly why you’re here with me, no?”

“Y-yes but…” gods, your face is burning, “but… never mind.”

Hongjoong’s smile morphs into a look of concern. His hand squeezes reassuringly, adjusting his hips until it perfectly lines with your entrance. One of his hands lets go, running down the skin of your stomach, down to your pelvis, over your cunt to his cock. He taps his tip on your clit and you tense.

“No. It won’t hurt. What we’re doing isn’t sex. This is not flesh.”

You’ve never been one to question a God, but with your bodies nude and close, you can’t help but raise an eyebrow. “I don’t think I-”

It doesn’t feel anything like your first time when Hongjoong slips in. There’s no gasp of surprise or sharp pain you hiss from. Instead, your mouth gapes open. Your sentence cuts off with a satisfied moan when he fills you.

“Oh.” It’s all you can manage. You knew bodies were warm, but you didn’t know they could scorch your insides like this. The pressure between your legs goes beyond the little pleasure you’ve known and you clench as if you’ve come already. “Oh, my God.”

Hongjoong sighs with contentment. His fingers find their place on your hips and blunt fingernails dig painlessly into your skin. You can feel his cock burying deeper, walls fluttering open with ease. His shaft catches your clit in the process and you shake when he drags it downwards with him.

“No,” his eyes look up to yours. “Call me by my name.”

That. You’re not sure if you can. Even if he looks at you with sincerity and utter command, speaking his true name is above you.

You want to shake your head, to say that even thinking about it isn’t something you deserve, but Hongjoong bullies into you. The tip of his cock touches a certain spot not even you have managed to reach. It makes your stomach tense, the goosebumps on your arms rise, and a squeal erupts from your swollen lips.

This God isn’t one to be defied.

He’ll make sure you have no choice but to moan his name. Every drag of his cock is swift and his thrusts are harsh. Hongjoong buries himself to the hilt, your clit on his pelvis every single time.

His length shouldn’t feel like it encompasses your body, but it does. Despite being a God, Hongjoong doesn’t seem to tower over mortals as legends claim, but he manages to make you feel small when he lies on top.

With a forearm on the ground and a hand keeping one of your thighs up so he can slide in with ease, Hongjoong does everything in his power to make you succumb to his wish.

“Say it.” He doesn’t even sound out of breath. You’re panting, moaning, and whining with all that he’s giving you, but his hips don’t so much as falter no matter how much you squeeze. “Don’t make me ask again.”

But how can you even speak when the glorious feeling builds? Hongjoong is more than deep in your body. He’s reaching for you, grabbing the soul you thought was damned, and keeping it in the palm of his hand. It’s there now. It’s safe and it feels divine.

“I’m!-” going to pee? Will you truly soil yourself in front of your God? Again?

That’s what it feels like when he pulls back. You miss the heat of his body immediately, but the earnest way he fucks into you makes the loss bearable.

“Wait! My- my…Hongjoong! Hongjoong, I’ll get you dirty.”

But maybe your God has a thing for messes because his hand moves from your thighs to your clit, rubbing in fast circles.

Something leaks from your cunt. You can feel it slide down your ass and hear how much wetter his thrusts sound. It’s warm and you find yourself liking how Hongjoong eyes finally tear from yours to look at the white cream leaking.

He groans, one of the first sounds of pleasure. You feel your heart swell.

“Didn’t I already tell you? I’ll clean you.” Hongjoong pushes your legs until they’re near your head. You feel so exposed like this, breasts bouncing and swollen pussy on display, but he drinks it up.

“Yes.” His eyes roll back. “Good.”

You snap. The feeling you were trying to hold back floods onto his cock. Whatever liquid you felt dripping only triples when you cum.

Your cunt spasms. It grabs onto Hongjoong’s cock like it wants him to stay still for a moment, to let your body indulge in this pleasure, but he doesn’t. Can’t when his release aches in his stomach before pouring inside you.

It warms your heart, something you didn’t think was possible by doing something considered sinful. The orgasm forces him to stop, opting to have your pussy swallow his shaft and cum until it has no choice but to leak on the sides.

You both moan when he pulls out. The way his cock glides out makes the release pour out with it.

Hongjoong rests his hand on your stomach. A gentle hum fills the air, but you think it’s a side effect from the ‘glow’ women have talked about.

But does a glow really feel like this? Lightweight, free, and safe?

No, not in the presence of him it is because of the glow. With his hand on your abdomen and his cum seeping from your cunt, you know it’s his holiness that does it.

With a look of infatuation in your eyes with the possession in his, you know it is finished.

[scoobydoodean]

4.15 "Death Takes A Holiday":

SAM Police say Mr. Jenkins was shot in the heart at point-blank range by a nine-millimeter. DEAN keeps eating, speaking with his mouth full. DEAN And he's not a doughnut? SAM Locals are saying it's a miracle. DEAN Okay. SAM It's got to be something nasty, right? I mean, people making deals or something. DEAN You think? SAM What else would it be? DEAN I don't know.

Dean isn't acting like a partner—isn't bouncing ideas off Sam like he usually does automatically when Sam's found a case and begins engaging with him about it. He isn't offering Sam a single thought in his head. He's just chewing his food—playing the role of the dumb brother Sam so clearly wants him to fall into.

Sam made it very clear the previous episode (under the siren's influence) that he's stronger, he's smarter, and Dean is holding him back. Therefore, the role Dean ought to play is "dumb sidekick" who simply concedes to Sam's views and doesn't get in the way—who's not as brave as Sam (an epic lie) or as smart as Sam is (another lie of epic proportions) and shouldn't act like it by daring to contribute thoughts.

Dean isn't playing into this thinking because Dean believes Sam's nonsense about him, or because he doesn't want Sam to leave. He's playing into it to make it very clear to Sam that the follower/leader relationship he seems to want so desperately—where Dean hangs on his every word and never questions him—isn't what Sam actually wants at all. The partner he's benefitted from all this time is much better than a dumb brute who just eats his burger.

SAM puts his laptop in his bag. SAM Get that to go. DEAN looks down and doesn't move. SAM Come on. SAM stands up, picking up his bag. DEAN doesn't move except to chew. SAM looks at him, swinging his bag over his shoulder. SAM What? DEAN looks up and keeps chewing, then glances away and back. DEAN Sure you want me going with you? SAM Why wouldn't I? DEAN I don't want to be holding you back or nothing. SAM Dude, I've told you a hundred times, that was the siren talking, not me. Can we get past this?

This is exactly what Sam did at the end of 1.10 "Asylum"—after spewing a very similar list of Dean's "deficiencies" compared to him. He simply stated that he didn't mean it, and felt that was enough—and because he so blatantly lied, Dean saw there was zero point in pressing the issue. Dean treats Sam's hurtful words (that he knows Sam meant) the same way in 4.14. There is no point in talking about it if Sam is just going to lie.

This time, in 4.15, it's actually worse—because Sam was the one who pushed and begged for Dean to open up about Hell—saying he just wanted to help... and then in 4.14 "Sex and Violence", he took all the trauma Dean trusted him with and spit it back in Dean's face:

You're too busy sitting around feeling sorry for yourself. Whining about all the souls you tortured in hell. Boo hoo. (x)

This is the second time Sam has taken a closely guarded secret of Dean's and deeply harmed him with it after begging and pleading and saying he just wanted to know so he could help. If I was Sam, and I actually didn't mean what I said in 4.14, when my full faculties returned, the very first thing I would do is reassure my brother that he is NOT weak and pathetic for being traumatized. What we get from Sam in 4.14? Not that at all.

SAM Dean, look, you know I didn't mean the things I said back there, right? That it was just the siren's spell talking?

It's said flippantly—the same tone he'd use after accidentally bumping into someone on the street. Sam's concern isn't sincerely reassuring his brother that his experiences in Hell don't make him weak. He just wants the matter not to be discussed. In 4.15, he worsens it, by making it clear all he cares about is how his own character is perceived—not whether Dean is actually okay or might have absorbed with words (even if they HAD been false). Sam’s sole concern is defending his character from "false" allegations. It's all about him being treated unfairly by Dean (who dares to not believe him... because Sam's been lying about everything) and how Dean is so terribly unfair because he hasn't gotten over it yet... which in of itself, only reinforces that Sam is lying about not meaning it. What he says here reinforces that he thinks Dean is overly emotional and fussy and his feelings are irrational.

I also sincerely doubt Dean asked him "a hundred times". I also doubt any of the times Sam "told" Dean he didn't mean it were any less flippant and self-centered than the first time. I wouldn't doubt Dean's been giving Sam a hard time, because he knows for a fact that Sam has been lying to him (he heard him talking to Ruby, Dean called her unlisted number in Sam's recent calls and she picked up) and Sam still refuses to admit it. Why wouldn't Dean assume Sam is also lying about not meaning anything he said? The very fact that Sam's hiding his contact with Ruby (after Dean worked with her and even attempted to thank her in 4.10 and also saved her life) reinforces that Sam's explanation under the siren's influence was real. He is leaving Dean out, because he thinks Dean is stupid and weak and is holding him back. They both know Dean meant every word he said, and so did Sam. And we'll have it confirmed for us that Sam meant it in 4.21. Saying Dean's asked him "a hundred times" is nothing than further invalidation of Dean's feelings—more assertions that Dean's irrational and his feelings are invalid and unfair and he's just being crazy.

[letsgetrowdy43]

omg the first two parts of the hughes sister and adam is so good ur writing is so nice.

need a part where adam and reader explain to luke how they didnt know when they started going out and lukes reaction

The apology—

Au Masterlist!!

Luke and you had not talked since his tantrum in the hotel room (I would be pissed too if I was him, but I always support women's wrongs.)

Not to mention the way that he had ignored you like the plague the moment you both landed back in Michigan.

If there was one thing besides hockey Luke was good at, it was holding grudges (tell me I'm wrong. you can't. I'm always right.)

You on the other hand were distraught, over the entire last 24 hours in halifax

Not only did you have to say goodbye to all your family members and return back to Umich for the winter semester, but your best friend was no longer on speaking terms with you.

You saw Adam a handful of times in the next month, opting to put a pause on your relationship until you figured your shit out

Adam was really good at making you feel better about the guilt (which is a big reason you asked to take a break)

You needed the guilt, you needed to feel bad about it all so you could apologize to Luke for breaking his trust.

Luke Warren Hughes is a bitch for making you cry and doubt your morals like that (I keep it real)

Adam on the other hand was obviously upset about it but was more mad at Luke for being okay with letting his little sister suffer over something so stupid.

Luke and Adam definitely got into it one day at practice

They are doing drills when one of the other boys makes a comment about how Adam was being uptight (cause he's no longer getting laid 🤭)

That comment really hit a weak spot for Luke and while they were scrimmaging he and Adam got into a scrum (Adam fighting 😼)

Naurato and Nolan pulled both boys from practice and brought them into the office

Nolan absolutely ripped into them for bringing their personal issues onto the ice and spewed some (as both Luke and Adam would say) bullshit about breaking the bond of the team.

Both the boys sat in silence as they awaited their dismissal

But before they both left Adam stopped Luke in the doorway to finally address the situation

"I know you're mad, be mad at me all you want, I don't care, but don't torture your sister," he said with exhaustion filling his tone, as he walked out of the office.

Luke was definitely taken aback

So he got home to the sophomore house and gave you a call

"Lu? Is everything okay?" your voice filled with worry as he let out a sigh on the other end of the call.

"I want us to figure this out." "Can I come over to talk?" "Please."

and that's how you ended up in your brother's room, with a sad look on your face as he hugged you and shut the door behind him.

I like to picture the four other boys living in the house sitting by the door trying to listen in on the conversation (these boys live and breathe for a good drama session)

The two siblings sat there tensely for a second before you finally started to explain

"I had no idea who he was, up until the hockey party" you confessed, slight guilt about allowing it to continue after a certain point (let's be fr she's not that guilty... I mean have you seen Adam??)

Luke was still having trouble understanding why you would go after Adam, even after finding out that he was on the team, knowing the rule that middle school Luke and yourself made

"I really like him, Lu, he's the first boy I've felt a genuine connection with," you softly smiled, face turning a light shade of pink as you thought about the past few months.

"Meeting him on my own terms and him not knowing about Jacky, Quinner, or you was the best part, cause I didn't have to feel like I had something to prove"

Luke just sat there with parted lips while staring at the slight embarrassment on your face as you spilt your guts

He'd never thought of it that way

He had no idea you'd been insecure about this type of thing

"He's really worth it?" Luke joked as you bit back a smile and nodded your head, "he really is."

Luke nodded slowly and pulled you in for another hug, the tears that you had been holding in let themselves go as you began hugging him back

At that moment he made a silent promise to never ignore you again, not like the way he had, not to let you suffer

"You're really sure he's okay? Cause I have no problem fighting him in your honour"

A laugh passed your lips, "I already heard about your little scrum this morning"

Luke is a softie for his little sister (confirmed)

[amberjazmyn]

she waits💔🫶

pairing : f1 grid x platonic fem!williams driver reader

summary : williams driver francisca benedict grew up without a mum after being abandoned by her. she never got over it and still waited for her. and maybe that was why her fellow f1 teammates was so against her constant want and longing for her mum. this will chronical francisca's life when she's a kid, teenager and now an adult with her own family.

warnings : parent abandonment, mentions of emotional childhood abuse, tears, pregnancy, happy ending

a/n : i love the song "she waits" by supernatural's rob benedict's band louden swain. even though i cannot personally relate to the song since i did not experience either parent abandoning me and my brother, i still love it and think it's a gorgeous song with so much emotional meaning to those who can relate to the song. also yes, i have made this into an f1 one-shot don't @ me

a/n : reader is french and husband's name is hayden.

have faith, promises were made. you just take care and behave, you left and now you are saved, the path it walks you away. 

francisca shouldn't be upset anymore. it was no longer news that francisca's mum left her and emotionally abused her when she was a much younger kid. now as a teenager, it still hurt her feelings when her mum fell through on a promise she had made to her daughter and the rest of her siblings. francisca's mum was the best at giving excuses after making countless promises of coming back to her family. 

"...allez cisca, aie confiance. elle nous a promis…maman nous a promis qu'elle serait là, alors elle l'est aussi!" julian, francisca's younger brother was so hopeful and it broke her heart as she sighed c'mon cisca, have faith. she promised us...mummy promised us that she'd be here so she has too!

"je sais qu'elle nous l'a promis, julian, mais bébé, elle n'a jamais tenu ses promesses," francisca sighed as julian sniffled, upset that his older sister was telling the truth i know she promised us julian but bub, she's ever ever followed through on these promises

of course, because julian was still young, the youngest of the dubois' siblings, he still had faith and belief in his mum. he still couldn't understand why all his older siblings were so against their maman. he didn't know why they were always so mad at her and why they'd constantly spew their hate for the woman that gave birth to them and then just left them. 

"je sais…je veux juste… je veux juste ma maman…" julian cried softly as francisca felt awful for the little boy who had no idea why their mother just up and left i know...i just...i just want my mumma

"…je connais bubba, moi aussi… je le sais aussi…" francisca sighed as she picked up her brother and hugged him tightly i know bubba, i do too...i do too...

just like she was told to do by her dad, francisca took care of herself and she behaved. her mum left and she was saved and now the path was left for her to walk it and see where it took her. whether that was to her dream of joining formula one as the first female driver in decades or not. of course, she'd always wait for her mum, she'd wait for her for eternity but she knew her mum would never come back. especially when it was clear that her mum never loved her and the kids she gave birth to. or the man she married. it was clear she wanted a whole new life for herself so, that's what she did. and now, it was up to her now ex-husband to pick up the pieces that were broken forever. 

and meanwhile the house is empty, the floors lay naked and weary. the walls, barely hanging on, carry on and she waits for you. 

francisca never thought she'd see this house again. today, francisca was back in montmatre, france due to summer break and being begged by her husband who wanted to visit her hometown. and because she couldn't say no since the rest of her family still lived in montmatre, she decided that after some breakfast and a slow morning, she'd take her husband on the drive from their apartment in monaco up to montmatre and check it out. see if it still looked the same or see if her dad had changed it like he had planned to do since the day his wife abandonded the family and his kids. even though she genuinely never thought she'd ever want to see the house again, her ego was forcing her to check it out. especially after being told by her husband that he wanted to see where she grew up. because even though she and her husband were married, she had waited this long for him to visit montmatre because of everything in regards to her mum. just to see if it would still have the painful connotations it did before she decided to leave montmatre when she was seventeen for monaco to further her fight in getting into formula one. 

so, it shouldn't have surprised her and made her heart physically hurt when she got out of her car and walked to the front door to see the house as it looked now. but it did make her heart physically hurt. the house was empty. the floors laid naked, weary and worn in from all the abuse it had been given by her and her siblings. the walls, were barely hanging on. the wallpaper clearly ripped off so aggressively that it had basically destroyed the walls as well. and even though francisca shouldn't think this and hadn't thought of her in years, she still waited for her mum even though she had carried on with her life without her. she still yearned to be loved and appreciated by that woman. if anything, she just wanted to know why. why did that woman decide to marry that man, have all those kids and then just decide one day that she was just going to leave. 

sniffling, francisca was embarrassed as her husband rested his chin on her shoulder, "...you alright baby?" hayden's soft voice whispered behind her in english as francisca held back the sob that was waiting to be heard

"no...i just...i don't get it...i don't understand why we weren't enough for her, you know? were we not good kids? was dad not a good husband?" francisca's voice shook as hayden sighed, turning his wife around and hugging her properly 

"i know babe. i know what it feels like...and i highly doubt it was your guys' fault. i think a hundred per cent it was her fault. you were more than enough for her, the whole family was, and she didn't know how to appreciate that. it scared her that she could have people that loved her and she ran away because she didn't how to deal with it like an adult," hayden whispered as francisca nodded her head and smiled at her husband

she knew the pain of her husband's own abandonment by his dad and how that affected him. which was why it was so easy for hayden to comfort francisca when she'd get upset about her mum's abandonment. so she was glad that when she told that side of her to hayden, she felt safe knowing that he could relate to her, as depressing and so dependent it sounds, it meant that they both had something traumatic that they could relate to. it was something they could bond over because they knew what it felt like to be abandoned by a parent, by someone who was supposed to love unconditionally and love them. 

"yeah...she was probably scared but, why couldn't she just be the one to break the generational trauma? why does it have to be me and my siblings?" francisca now felt mad as hayden sighed, biting his lip as he shook his head

"i don't know darling but, if you don't break the generational trauma right now, then who will?" hayden spoke as francisca nodded her head, knowing she couldn't argue with that so she didn't 

"no one would. it'll continue happening each generation that's created so, the cycle ends here," francisca breathed in heavily as she clenched her fists as hayden smiled, feeling proud of his wife

"atta girl. let's go, we don't need to be here anymore," hayden smiled as he held his hand out for his wife as the benedicts then left the house that held many a bad memory 

last night you left like a bird, fly away and never be heard. the wind, it's cold and absurd but man, you gave her your word.

as francisca and the rest of the dubois family slept peacefully, there was a sudden slam of the front door. this made all the siblings jolt awake as francisca clambered out of her bed, down the hall, down the stairs and to the front door whilst the rest of the brothers and sisters fell back asleep. where her father, john dubois stood as he sobbed. wailing for his wife, hollie-anne dubois to come back as he opened the door back up again after hollie-anne had slammed it shut. begging for her to not leave him and the family. apologising if he had done something wrong that caused her to up and leave, abandoning their children. and this worried francisca. as the third oldest child but first oldest of the girls, she rushed to be with her dad. wanting to comfort him and wanting to know what had happened. 

"...papa? que fais-tu? qu'est-ce qui ne va pas?" an exhausted francisca muttered as she cuddled up next to her dad at the front door that was opened for the dark early morning hours to see daddy? what are you doing? what's wrong?

"ahh…cisca, chérie! que faites-vous ici? tu devrais dormir!" john sniffled, trying to wipe away his tears before kneeling down to his young daughter's height ahh...cisca, honey! what are you doing here? you should be sleeping!

"j'ai entendu la porte d'entrée claquer, ça m'a fait peur…où est maman? est-ce elle qui a claqué la porte d'entrée?" francisca was scared, sure, her mum wasn't a great mum but that was still her mum and she adored her mum when she shouldn't be i heard the front door slam, it scared me...where's mummy? was it her that slammed the front door?

"ouais chérie. c'est maman qui a claqué la porte d'entrée…" john whimpered, not even trying to stay strong as francisca's eyes started to tear up as well, her dad's big oversized shirt she was wearing as her pyjamas made her look even smaller as john looked at her yeah honey. it was mummy that slammed the front door

"…où est-elle allée ? est-ce que maman va revenir?" francisca whimpered as her eyes welled with tears and her bottom lip shook as john shook his head, closing his eyes where did she go? is mummy going to come back?

"je ne pense pas, petite fille. elle semblait à peu près certaine qu'elle n'allait pas revenir…" john then shivered, as did francisca, the wind cold and absurd for this time of year as hollie-anne vowed to never do the very thing her own mother did to her i don't think so baby girl. she seemed pretty certain that she wasn't going to come back

"...mais…mais elle a promis qu'elle ne partirait pas…son petit doigt m'a promis qu'elle ne ferait pas ce que grand-mère a fait..." francisca's teary voice broke john's heart because he remembered that pinky promise that hollie-anne made with francisca when she was actually somewhat of a nice mum but...but she promised she wouldn't leave...she pinky promised me she wouldn't do want grandmummy did

"...je sais qu'elle l'a fait, petite fille, mais... j'ai peur que ta maman ne soit pas douée pour tenir ses petites promesses...." john trailed off as he finally picked up his eldest daughter to bring her back into the house since it was below freezing and it was getting late i know she did baby girl but...i'm afraid your mummy is not good at keeping her pinky promises

but francisca wriggled out of her dad's grip and she stepped out to the front porch step where she and her father were not even a minute ago. tears streaming down her small little cheeks as she just looked into the darkness of the montmatre chill and she waited. she waited as long as she could before john knew better to leave his daughter out of the house like this. bringing francisca back inside the house was a struggle but once he picked her up and brought her inside, closing and then locking the front door, she couldn't fight anymore. she was too weak and exhausted, falling asleep out of pure exhaustion of her tears on her daddy's shoulder as he walked them upstairs and into daddy's room. john knew his daughter wouldn't be able to stomach falling back asleep in her own bed. so, he let his six-year-old daughter sleep in his bed with her for the next four months, right up until she turned seven. 

and meanwhile the house is empty, the floors lay naked and weary. the walls, barely hanging on, carry on and she waits for you.

moving into a new house with her boyfriend hayden should have excited francisca. it was a happy occasion. francisca left paris to move out of france and live in monaco with her boyfriend. however, walking into this new house felt eerily similar to her childhood home back in montmartre, france. the one that haunted the adult in her sleep every night. the one that her father and youngest brother julian still lived in. the one that took years for her father to get rid of everything that had connotations to his ex-wife that just left that one evening with no other word of warning but a measly letter that john had later found after francisca had finally cried herself to sleep that night that hollie-anne left. but that was exactly it, no matter where francisca moved to, every single house she's moved into, it reminded her of her mother. especially when it was a house that was empty, the floors naked with no rugs or carpets or worn in from the years of it being lived in. the walls were new and pristine but to francisca, she saw the walls in the same way she saw herself, barely hanging on. 

"...cisca, bébé, tu dois arrêter de faire ça à chaque fois qu'on déménage. tu te tues à petit feu en pensant que partout où on va c'est montmartre et ta mère..." hayden sighed, feeling bad that his girlfriend felt like this because he knew exactly what it felt like, he too had a parent abandon him cisca, babe, you need to stop doing this every time we move houses. you're slowly killing yourself by thinking everywhere we go is montmartre and your mum

it was his dad that abandonded hayden and his family but, he still knew what parental abandonment felt like. he had to live with it and still lives with it every single day but, he doesn't let it constantly control his life. he wasn't doing what francisca does which is every new place they move into, bring in the memory of her mother that left. 

"...je sais que je dois arrêter mais je…je ne peux pas ! je ne sais pas comment!" francisca sighed as she plopped herself onto the new velvet couch - which, when she really thought about it, was definitely nothing like the couch she had in her childhood home in montmartre i know i need to stop but i...i just can't! i don't know how!

"yes you do, francisca, you just don't want to stop it. and i know that because i did the same thing for a little while too but, i eventually stopped it because i realised i knew how to stop it, i just didn't want to because i thought if i stopped bringing my dad into every situation that my world would end. but, as soon as i stopped bringing dad into everything and waiting for him, my life became better and i didn't think of him everywhere i went. and i was so much happier knowing that i could live without him and that i no longer had to wait for someone who was never going to come back..." hayden was exhausted, hence the english response and not french, but not of his girlfriend but of the pain she was putting herself through every single day 

hayden really did love francisca but he didn't love that she couldn't let go of the woman that abandoned her. all because somewhere inside of her, there was still the little six-year-old francisca that stood outside that front door in a cold montmartre chill waiting for her mummy to come home the very same evening she up and left. 

"...you're right hayden. i do know how to stop it and i don't want to stop it because if i do stop it, i feel like i'll never get the answers i deserved. the answers that that little girl all those years ago deserved...and i want answers hayden, i want to know why she decided to leave! i want to know why she thought it was a good idea to just leave my family alone in the late night montmartre chill. i want to know what we did that made her leave us!" francisca cried in english as hayden softened immediately, not that he was fighting her or mad, he just hated seeing the hurt and pain that was still etched on his girlfriend's face 

"i know babe but that's not healthy. and it's not going to do anything to actually help you. even though it may seem like closure, it's not actually going to help you. it's only going to make you fall into a deeper spiral of the what ifs," hayden soothed as he pulled francisca in for a hug as she nodded her head

"yeah...you're right..." francisca whispered as she sniffled and pulled out of the hug as she then saw all the boxes filled with everything that she and hayden had brought with them to fill their new house with

"...well, how about we make this house a home? it shouldn't stay empty cause then that'll be boring..." francisca smiled as hayden's eyes lit up with joy as he nodded his head

"..that's an amazing idea, cisca. i'd love to do that, let's start with this room we're in now and go from there..." hayden smiled as francisca nodded her head as her tears were gone and her joy had returned

even though today was a win, tomorrow was a whole other story because she was always going to wait for her mum. but, right now, she didn't feel like she needed to because it was clear that right now, she wasn't going to come back. and francisca was okay with that because she was with hayden and in a new house where her mother wasn't. 

she can't hear anything they're saying, she can't believe what is true. it doesn't make sense what they're saying, she can't see anyone but you. 

in formula one, which she had finally reached, in every single interview, the main topic of questions for francisca was in regards to her mum and the abandonment from her. and there was a reason for that. francisca welcomed those questions to be asked because she felt no reason to hide or shy away from it now she was in formula one. however, it was something the rest of the grid was protective about when it came to francisca. it was honestly very sweet at how protective those guys got in regards to their fellow driver when she was asked those questions. but, since it was a major part of who she was as francisca and not just who she was as a driver, it only made sense that those around her allowed her to be asked those questions.

however, one huge thing that francisca told her fellow drivers was that her mum was dead, not that she was abandoned by her mum. that was why the other drivers thought francisca's mum was dead. whenever francisca had a press conference or an interview with the other drivers, majority of the media interviewers knew not to question her about her mum when they were around. every driver thought that francisca's mum was an angel of a human and had sadly passed away when she was a child because that's what she had led them all to believe. she couldn't cope with telling them the truth so she just twisted it into a little white lie that had now been twisted a little too much to the point that francisca was struggling with her lie.

and in regards to the abandonment on francisca's mum, it was because she no longer wanted to be a mum. it was as simple as that really. it wasn't anything that john dubois had done, it was nothing that the kids had done, it had everything to do with the fact that hollie-anne no longer felt like she could be a mum without hurting those she loved. and she selfishly thought the best thing to change that would be to just pack up her things and leave late one evening in the freezing montmartre chill. with the knowledge that john would do everything he could to beg for her to come back knowing that she wouldn't. and as you can imagine, this devastated francisca and her family. it also caused so many fights in her family that it broke the family up. to the point where the older children, excluding francisca, left and the youngest and francisca stayed with their father. that was until francisca had to leave since she had gotten further within the levels of motorsport and was getting closer and closer to reaching formula one. and, also because she hoped that if she became a better racer that she would run into her mum. however, francisca was still waiting for the day she'd run into her mum as it hadn't happened yet. and it discouraged her...

...that was...until she saw someone during a chit chat with max verstappen, carlos sainz jr and lando norris. and the woman she had seen looked exactly like her mum. she couldn't verify if it was her mum but, it gave francisca hope that it was her mum. and because she was so hyperfixated on the woman that could be her mother, she couldn't hear anything that her teammates were saying to her. she couldn't believe what the potential truth could be. the truth that she could have found her mum during an f1 race, finally, after over a decade of looking.

max, lando and carlos all kept on trying to get her attention but it fell on deaf ears as they watched the way francisca tried to see if she could look at the older woman's face. because that was the only thing she could see. she couldn't see anyone but her...

...until the woman turned around fully, her eyes widened before softening as she smiled towards francisca as it was someone from williams racing. but, because francisca had full faith that it was her mum, wearing williams gear to support her daughter, she had no idea until the woman walked away before realising that it was just someone from williams.

"...i...i am so sorry guys..." francisca stammered, remembering that she was in conversation with max, lando and carlos

"...it's fine, cisca...we're just worried about you, what happened back there? you are usually so chill and relaxed but this entire conversation you've been distracted by that williams staff member. what's wrong?" max was worried as were lando and carlos, sure it was annoying that they had been ignored but it wasn't the end of the world

they weren't spilling anything important that was so secretive they couldn't repeat it if francisca did actually want to be told. it was just some general gossip that they had heard from around the paddock and different hospitalities and they were wanting to know francisca's take.

"i...i thought she was my mum..." francisca stammered as the three looked at each other and then back at francisca in confusion

"...your mum? i thought you told us that she had died...that was definitely not your mum, francisca!" lando was shocked and confused as francisca scoffed a laugh and provided the truth

"i lied lando. my mum's not dead, that i know of. she could very well be dead now but, i wouldn't know because she abandonded me and my family when i was six. she left one night, in the early hours after it had struck midnight. i was asleep when i had heard her slam the door shut, it had scared me so it woke me up and i had found my dad in hysterics almost as he had opened the door again. begging for mum to come back home even though i'm sure he knew that she wasn't going to. it was awful honestly, knowing i do have a mum but wants nothing to do with me, my dad or my siblings. it makes you wonder if everything you've ever done in your life was a mistake... and she's been gone ever since and that was why i fought as hard as i did to get into formula one...because, if i raced around the world, there was always a reason for me to believe that she could be watching the race, watching me and i'd see her again..." francisca trailed off as the three watched on in sadness for their best friend

"...but you never came into contact with her even though you saw her in everyone you came into contact with..." max finished as francisca nodded her head as she breathed out shakily, tears welling in her eyes at the memory of every race she had done just hoping she'd bump into her mum

"...yeah...that's about right..." francisca sniffled as max pulled his best friend in for a hug as the distraught girl mustered a smile

"...why didn't you tell us sooner sweetheart? we could've asked christian to go and look for her..." 

"...no, you couldn't have and i wouldn't have let you. i can't keep doing this and think that my mum's going to be there when i wait for her. because she won't be there and i have to finally take that as a sign to stop waiting for her..." francisca trailed off and the tears streamed down her face

little girl hold on and wait, it's not fair the fairness is overrated. wait and you will be saved, the path it walks in this way. 

francisca smiled as cheers and laughter could be heard all around her as she sat onstage during a fan zone in france but this time, it was paris so she wouldn't have to see her childhood home this time. it was nearing the end of her panel with her williams teammate logan, and ferrari's carlos and charles when a little girl all of a sudden shuffled up to the microphone. 

"...wait, wait, guys, don't end the questions just yet, i am so sorry but, i think this little girl has a question..." francisca felt bad for stopping the moderator who was about to halt all questions but, she saw a little girl walk near the microphone stand and it was obvious she had a question 

and the moderator nodded her head and stayed at the microphone stand as the little girl made it, "...hello sweetheart, what's your name and what's your question?" francisca asked softly, inching towards the stage's end even more to see the little girl clearer 

the little girl smiled with a shy energy to her as she breathed into the microphone, "my name is francesca and...and my question is for francisca..." francesca, the little girl spoke in her little high-pitched voice as the crowd cooed, francisca, logan, charles and carlos doing the same thing

"...hello francesca, what a beautiful name, you almost have the same name as me but my name is francisca!" francisca smiled at the little girl who lit up at hearing that her name was almost the same as her favourite f1 driver as she then asked her question

"well, my question is, whilst you are an amazing driver and such an inspiration for myself and so many girls, i wanna know, who's the most influential woman in your life since i know you speak about not having your mum around. since i can relate to you because i don't know my mum either so i...i was just wondering who the most influential woman in your life is because for me, you are the most influential woman in my life..." francesca got teary at the end of her question as that broke francisca's heart as logan, charles and carlos watched closely, their hearts breaking as well

francesca, the little girl only looked to be eight...maybe nine but, if francesca was nine, nearing ten, she was awfully small for her age. and it broke francisca's heart into two because whilst she was a lot younger, six, when her mum left her and her family, when she was francesca's age, she was still very much struggling with the fact that she didn't have a mum to run to for help or even an older sister since she was the older sister in the family, she didn't have a girl older than her to run to for help. 

"...oh honey, are you okay? do...do you need a hug?" francisca moved closer to the edge of the stage as she watched little francesca start to cry, no longer able to hold her tears in anymore as the audience stayed quiet

francesca nodded her head as she slightly stepped away from the microphone so it wouldn't pick up her little sobs. francisca stepped down from the stage and walked the two steps to where the moderator and francesca was and picked the little girl up and hugged her tightly. it was obvious to logan, charles, carlos, hayden and the fans in the audience who knew francisca's story, that she saw herself in little francesca and how unfair it was that she was still hearing these stories of little kids being abandonded and left behind by either one of or both of their parents. a few minutes later and little francesca had stopped crying, only little sniffles could be heard and francisca was content in knowing that the little girl could go back to her seat back to her dad who had come to the grand prix fan zone with her. it was obvious that little francesca's dad had also been crying during that exchange because not only had francesca's mum abandonded her, francesca, but she had also abandonded her husband and the father of their children. so it wasn't shocking that little francesca's dad was also crying and it wasn't something that needed to be made into a scene either because it was a father having his heart break as his little girl tells her favourite group of drivers that she can relate to one of the drivers who was also just like her, a little girl that had dreamt of becoming an f1 driver. but, again, it's stories like these that francisca and the rest of her teammates hear on the daily that makes what they do months out of the year completely worth it in the end. 

"well, francesca, to answer your question properly, i have to say, the most influential woman in my life is probably either my godmother susie wolff or my friend max's mum sophie! and you said that i'm your most influential woman in your life?" francisca pauses as francesca nods her head to the driver's question as her heart flutters

"yes, you're my favourite driver and who i want to be when i grow up, francisca!" francesca responds as coos are heard around the fan zone as francisca places her hand over her heart

"aw, you are so sweet, thank you francesca! well, i want to be like you when i'm older! but um, yeah, because i was abandonded by my mum when i was six, i was the older sister so i didn't have an older sister to be influenced by and looked after because that was my job for my younger brothers and sisters when my mum left back home in montmartre. so, i was very, very young when she left but it was around that time that i was taking karting very seriously and i was also getting very good at it. and it was then that i had seen women like susie and sophie that i just fell in love with and just constantly looked up to because they were doing the things that i wanted to do as well as i started to grow up and get older. and it took me quite a few years to get to that point because i was always looking out for the woman that i so despertely wanted to be influenced by that i knew was never going to come home so it was useless to wait for her when she had always had this plan of hers to just leave and never return. so, yeah, i'd have to say that my two most influential women in my life are susie wolff and sophie kumpen..." francisca trailed off as she smiled at the little girl and her father who clinged onto every single world francisca had said but it was clear that they weren't the only ones

it looked as though the entire fan zone, the interviewers and other drivers included, had clinged onto every single word and you could hear a pin drop. because it was unfair but if little francisca could wait and this was the life she lived now, so could little francesca. because little francesca's life was going to change forever and in the best way and it was her mum's loss and that she was never going to know about it or see it because she made the decision to leave rather than stay and be her daughter's most influential woman in her life.

and meanwhile the house is empty, the floors lay, naked and weary. the walls barely hanging on, carry on and she waits for you. 

francisca hadn't ever been happier in her life. she had just found out that she was pregnant with her and hayden's first baby. meaning because of her new pregnancy, she'd no longer be able to race for the next few seasons. and she still had to tell hayden and the way she surprised hayden was in the empty spare room at the end of the upstairs hallway that was next to their bedroom. the room, that used to lay naked and weary was now decorated from top to bottom with everything that had got to do with babies and having a baby. it was colourful, it was vibrant, it was happy. it reflected the new joy of francisca becoming a mum after always being scared of being one since the only mum she ever knew was a mum that lied and eventually ran away, never to be seen again but always waited on. and that wasn't what francisca wanted to be as a mum. she wanted to be a mum that told the truth, that stayed even with her job in formula one and was always one message or phone call away if help was needed, and a mum that didn't need to be waited on. a mum that didn't break her pinky promises. 

"...cisca? bébé, où es-tu?" hayden giggled as he entered the house after a long work day as francisca bit her lip in excitement cisca? babe, where are you?

"à l'étage bébé, dans la pièce d'amis à côté de notre chambre," francisca tried to hide the excitement in her voice but it was clear that it couldn't be hidden way as hayden giggled upstairs babe, in the spare room next to our bedroom

he made his way upstairs to the spare room that was always empty, with confusion as to why his wife was up there. but, because he was too tired to question it, he didn't. however, what he saw when he made his way into the room made so many questions fly through his head that it almost made him burst. 

"wait...is this...are you pregnant, cisca?" hayden questioned in english as his eyes widened as francisca bit her lip and nodded her head 

"uh-huh! all five tests said positive!" francisca burst into excited squeals and tippy taps as hayden laughed in joy, pulling his wife in for a hug as tears welled in his eyes 

"oh my gosh, baby, you're pregnant pregnant!" hayden sobbed with a giggle as francisca giggled and nodded her head 

"mmm, i'm pregnant pregnant!" francisca sighed with contentment as hayden then relaxed his shoulders as he noticed that francisca wasn't worried like she used to be

"and...you're not...worried? not even about having to surrender your f1 seat for maybe the next year?" hayden questioned, pulling out of the hug as francisca shook her head 

"no, babe, oh my gosh no! i'm not worried at all. if this was happening at the beginning of our relationship or even the start of our marriage then, hell yes, i would be freaking out and thinking about not wanting it. but, because, i've stopped waiting for her and expecting her to be there when i know she won't, i feel so much better and i'm so excited hayden. i'm so excited to be a mum and for you to be a dad...even if it means i have to give up my f1 seat for a little bit..." francisca sighed as she sat her and hayden down on the bed as hayden released all the stress he had just gave himself 

"...i'm glad you're excited about this because you will be such an amazing mum, cisca. i have no worries at all that what happened to you when you were a kid is not going to happen to this baby...to our baby. because i'm not going to leave this baby and you're not going to leave this baby, we've already broken the generational trauma to make sure it never ever happens again to the future children and their childrens children. we're doing a great thing here, cisca and i cannot wait for it. if anything, we're no longer waiting for our deadbeat mum and dad but our little baby," hayden smiled with tears in his eyes as francisca nodded her head as she gave her husband a kiss

"we're waiting for our little benedict," francisca whispered as hayden nods his head as he then goes to his knees to kiss the non-existant baby bump 

she waits for you, she waits

after waiting eight and a half months, in december on a cold evening in monte-carlo, monaco during christmas with the leclerc's, verstappen's and norris' families that francisca gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. the baby girl was named tallulah eleanor benedict and was healthy at a steady five pounds and eight ounces. 

hearing the cries of little tallulah sounded like the angels in heaven. whilst it may have been exhausting for francisca and painful to deliver a baby into this world after it living in the womb for nearly nine months, it was still a beautiful thing. and something that francisca and hayden could definitely see themselves doing again if they wanted to give tallulah some siblings in the future. but, right now, tallulah had just arrived and it was all about her. 

"...here she is, well done francisca. you did an amazing job, does the father want to cut the cord?" the attending midwife turned to the husband as hayden smiled and nodded his head 

the midwife offered him the sheers and he cut the cord clean and perfectly as tallulah was properly swaddled up and returned to her maman and papa. 

"isn't she just gorgeous, hayden? we made her, we actually created an entire little human being!" francisca muttered, clearly still loopy and delirious from her epidural as hayden could only smile with teary eyes at his wife

"she's beautiful, francisca, just like her maman. and yes, we did make her, we made a gorgeous human being who looks like the perfect mix of her maman and papa!" hayden smiled as he caressed both francisca and then tallulah as the midwife returned

"sorry to disturb you maman and papa but, i think the godparents want to be introduced to their goddaughter..." the midwife smiled as hayden smiled as did francisca as they nodded their heads

although it was tradition for the grandparents to meet the new baby first, hayden and francisca didn't fly that way. of course, hayden and francisca both loved their singular parent, of course they did. but, because they had tallulah in monte-carlo, monaco, not in either of the countries that hayden's mum and francisca's dad currently were, it just made sense that the godparents and other uncles and aunties met baby tallulah first. since mrs benedict and mr dubois were on flights over to monte-carlo which meant that it was still a few hours before they'd land in monaco and then arrive to the hospital to then meet the baby.

which leads to the question that everyone was curious about and that was who the godparents to baby tallulah was. and, the godparents of tallulah are max & kelly and carlos & rebecca. which, everyone should have theoretically seen coming but, it was still a shock when hayden and francisca announced it. especially considering she didn't pick her fellow william's teammate, logan.

"...of course, they can come in," francisca smiled as she sat her and baby tallulah up in the hospital bed as max & kelly and carlos & rebecca walked in

the two couples were confused that all four of them were asked to come in rather than just one of the couples. but, they didn't argue and they all cooed in adoration for the new f1 grid baby. 

"oh my gosh...cisca, hayden...she's gorgeous! what's little bubba's name?" kelly cooed as she looked at the baby lovingly, rebecca, carlos and max doing the same

"thank you kelly, her name's tallulah eleanor benedict..." francisca trailed off as she looked down at the little girl she was cradling that was hers and her husbands

"...tallulah eleanor...that's such a perfect name for a perfect little princess!" kelly cooed again as max could tell his girlfriend was getting baby fever even though they already had penelope as carlos could tell that rebecca was trying hard to hide her own baby fever as well 

"she's gorgeous cisca but, why do you need all four of us in here? i thought you only needed the godparents..." carlos asked in confusion as francisca and hayden giggled as little tallulah wiggled and made little noises 

"...exactly...all four of you are tallulah's godparents," francisca smiled as they all looked at their best friend and teammate as though she had four eyes 

"wait, that's allowed? i only thought only one couple were allowed to be a child's godparents..." max trailed off in confusion as to be fair, he did have a fair point

"...technically, that is true and if there is any "paperwork" that needs only one pair of emergency contacts, it'll be you and kelly, alright max. but, if it needs a second pair of emergency contacts, that's where carlos and rebecca come in and why i want tallulah to have two godmums and two goddads cause she already has enough aunties and uncles..." francisca trailed off as they all giggled but it was clear that it really touched both couples that they both had been chosen as tallulah's legal guardians if anything were to happen to francisca and hayden

"...well, she does have a lot of aunties and uncles and cousins but, that's the best way to do it. you wouldn't want to bring a kid up with no one around them," max smiled as he moved over and hugged francisca and placing his gigantic hand on baby tallulah's teeny tiny head 

 "that's very true, max, very true," francisca smiled in content as she looked at everyone around her plus the others in the waiting room and her dad and mrs benedict who were also on their way as well 

she had never felt this amount of love before but she loved it but she loved her new baby girl the most. baby tallulah was what francisca had been waiting for, not her mother. 

fin

okay, man, writing this in an f1 light was difficult but i'm kinda glad i did if you know what i mean! like it's not perfect but it's not bad ya know? and sorry i didn't really add in a lot of the f1 aspect, especially considering the reader was a driver as well but that kind of was forgotten so i do apologise lol

©⠀amberjazmyn's original work. do not translate or steal any of my fics. 2024

[hiscloakmydaggers]

Tradere

AU i just made up today, where nic grows up as a brotherhood soldier instead of gunner. im sorry!!

PS. title is latin for “to hand over.” thought that was cute

word count: 530

｡ﾟ☁︎｡ ☀︎ ｡ﾟ☁︎

Just yesterday was life paradise. Deacon was in Nic’s arms, on the verge of falling asleep, with a pleasant tingle he felt only with his lover. Today that tingle was gone. In its place was a tremble, one that knew it would soon never shake again.

Everywhere around Deacon were corpses of his closest comrades, their blood, their documents not to be seen by anyone. Especially not a Brotherhood soldier, like Nic. There was a reason he had never told anyone about the affair: both of them would lose their jobs, friends, likely everything. Nevertheless, Deacon lost everything.

Nic stood over his kneeling body, parts of his power armor torn and covered in blood. His helmet was in Deacon’s lap, it was the only thing the spy could bear to do as harm to him.

“Is this how we end?” The spy mumbled, “I didn’t think you would fall this easily, honey,” he hissed like a snake.

It wasn’t like Nic wanted it to end like this, he didn’t even want it to end. The past few months with Deacon were the best of his life. Somehow he had seen them getting married one day, abandoning all duties, maybe living in a cabin across the mountains. But dreams are just dreams, lessons reverberated in his head, dreams were just dreams.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” his fists held tight to his hammer, with a grip about to slip from the blood that coated it.

“Then don’t. Why is that so hard for you?”

“You cannot understand-.” A cough interrupted him.

“I did and I do, I trusted you, goddammit. Was I just a part of a mission? You spied on the spy? So fucking funny.”

“What we have is real. I cannot forget it,” for the first time since he was an infant, a tear dropped from his eye. “You mean so much to me.”

“You mean jack shit now, Roach,” Deacon turned his head up. His glasses were gone, left over his thigh, cracked. He only had them off in moments of vulnerability, such as now. “Kill me. You love the Brotherhood so fucking much, more than me, then kill me!”

“My love-“

Deacon laughed at a name that used to bring him peace, “forget that. God… god I hate you.”

“No, you do not. Neither do I hate you,” Nic grit his teeth, lowering his hammer to his waist.

“Stop lying to me!” He spewed a yell that raptured his lungs, “if you loved me, you wouldn’t do something like this.” His eyes watered more, with tears that hurt to produce. They shined with a thousand pleads for life.

Only Nic could decipher those begs. They cracked his heart into halves.

“Do not beg any longer, for it is pointless. As long as I live, you will live.”

Walls collapsed, releasing Deacon’s true feelings, “...I-I love you. But I’m not going to ever date you again.”

Nic cupped his cheek to give him one final kiss. He poured every last bit of love he had for the man into it. Physically and mentally he felt him reciprocate, filled with the same devotion. Pulling away, Nic sighed, “if that is how it ends.”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆

how come i only write deanic in AUs where everything ends badly for them… whatever! once again, thank u to @wassertoffatom for this idea. but now i rlly need to get back to imagining them happy before i cry

[mymainwastoocluttered]

Birthday Cake (Azul Ashengrotto)

There’s actually a tradition about birthday cakes back where the Prefect comes from.

Original idea by @strawberry-pie-thoughts

NOTE: I only write for female reader but everyone is welcome to read it!

— (⁠◠⁠‿⁠・⁠)⁠—⁠☆

“Tesouro, what is this?”

“It's a cake!”

“Yes, I can see that. I'm wondering why there is a cake on my table?”

It's technically a miniature cake, one that certainly will be gone in very few slices, even if cut quite thin. It's the color of sand, clearly imitating the ocean floor, with some shiny pearls and gold coins and white shells scattered, all very small but abundant. The most attention catching part of it is the beautiful black octopus on top, its tentacles curling around in intricate swirls, the 'skin' shimmering under his office's lights. The blue eyes and stylishly askew fedora make it very clear who that is supposed to be.

“Well…” (Y/N) smiles at him that way that makes him have to swallow the ink threatening to spill out. What was it Mr. Shroud said the other day? His disadvantage against her cuteness would be the end of him. “Your birthday is tomorrow!”

“Yes. Well, technically, it's today, it is past midnight.”

They both should be in bed, actually. Monstro Lounge would have an event to celebrate his birthday, the day promises to be a busy one. Azul is already pushing his luck by being awake right now, way past his bedtime, but his anxiety to make sure things were going perfectly smooth did not let him rest until he had checked every nook and cranny and annoyed Floyd to the point of moping.

Then his girlfriend asked for a few minutes of his attention and he is a weak, weak guppy when it comes to her.

Maybe Mr. Shroud is onto something.

So here he is, sitting on his comfortable office chair, having a staring contest with a miniature version of himself while his girlfriend beams at him.

“I made this for you,” and she must've seen the beginnings of his conflict for she immediately holds his hand and squeezes. “I made sure it won't break your calorie intake for the day. At least, not too much! It's a special recipe Vil and Trey helped me prepare.”

(Y/N) asking Trey for help is nothing new—and maybe Azul has some insecurities about it despite knowing the Heartslabyul Vice Housewarden sees her as a sibling—, but for her to go to Vil, of all people? The only other person who's even more meticulous with his food intake than Azul and Riddle combined?

God, he loves her.

“I know you're not going to actually eat the cake you prepared for the party,” she glares a bit at him and he shrugs. The matter of his maybe a bit too strict eating habits is a delicate subject they're still breaching into, “so I made this! This way, you'll have the chance to eat a proper cake slice on your birthday!”

God, he loves her.

Taking her hand to his lips, he gives her soft skin as many kisses as he can, his hearts filling with warmth greater than the sun of Scarabia and ten times more nourishing.

“The octopus…?”

“I made him by hand! Took a lot of tries, Ace and Deuce might have diarrhea for a few days… but, hey, they agreed to it.”

Azul can only giggle, giddiness bubbling up his chest and making his head fuzzy.

“Let us share it, then.”

She agrees with a happy squeal, grabbing the knife and a plate—and only now he notices that she actually made a whole display with ocean themed plates and cups. By the smell, he can tell it is his favorite tea, the one he drinks when he needs to relax before bed with a good book.

God, he is loved.

“You can have it,” he says when she offers him the first cake slice.

She blinks. He blinks.

A blush rises to her cheeks.

“R… really?”

“... Yes?” he's a bit confused, but he's not going to complain about her cuteness, not now not ever.

“I guess it's not a thing here, but… back home, we give the first slice of our birthday cake to the person we love the most. So… thank you! I promise I'll give you the first slice of mine.”

God, he's going to spew ink on the cake.

[valkyrieandstrangeridingaragorn]

tEaM cAp BaD, tOnY gOoD

The fact that takes like this are still being spewed 7 years after Civil War maddens me.

OMG where do I even start... You know, maybe this is the result of the MCU not knowing where they stand in regards to heroism. In the past we used to watch superhero movies that were very clear on defending the heroes and keeping the villains accountable, but for some reason the MCU seems to enjoy questioning their heroes and framing them in a negative light while justifying the bad guys - so I'm not surprised to read these takes.

OP says "Hydra didn't hide themselves after the reveal". Uh, yes, they did, actually. And with good reason. If you have been infiltrating an American intelligence agency for decades and you're finally outed, why exactly would anyone go out there and happily advertise they're Hydra? That... makes no sense.

I honestly have no interest in talking about "Did Wanda and Pietro know or not?". I'll just leave this here.

In the same comment OP shows his anger at Wanda for not facing any consequences for her actions, he defends Stark "not selling more weapons" as enough accountability for his. So he can spend his whole life willfully ignorant of where his wealth is coming from, he only decides to stop selling when those weapons kill Americans (he didn't give a fuck if they hurt other people), he can literally tell the government to suck it when they request his tech (which I'm okay with, but damn, nice display of hypocrisy right there when these stans claim the heroes are awful for not signing the Accords in CW)... and all this shit is enough for Stark to be off the hook?

They want Wanda, sometimes even Steve, to be jailed and punished but when it comes to Stark, if he pouts for a while they call it a day and that's enough accountability for him 🤦‍♀️

OP's line about Edith is even worse: "Edith is designed as a planetary defense system." I always think of Zola's line in TWS whenever I read a take like that one: "HYDRA created a world so chaotic that humanity is finally ready to sacrifice its freedom to gain its security."

More control doesn't equate more safety, it tends to cause the opposite thing, actually. But of course NWH never addressed the morality of this device so many fans think its existence okay. If they had handled it like Nolan did their ideas would be different. Edith is another Project Insight and Stark was still defending this "control is safety" years after CW 👇

That's Hydra rhetoric. I couldn't care less if it's a so-called "hero" saying it, that line could be said by Zola or Red Skull or Rumlow, that's how messed up it is. But all of a sudden it's Stark saying it and that makes it okay?

OP: "Steve Rogers [...] solves problems by punching things [...] He has no fucking idea how to handle a situation involving a bioweapon or a terrorist." Tell me you don't understand Steve's character without telling me you don't understand him. This stan is one of those who thinks Steve is just a buff guy with no brains who can only punch his way out of things, which is hilarious because he has been shown to be the exact opposite of that.

A guy who figured out how to take that flag from Camp Lehigh, who could easily tell he was being deceived after being defrosted when that Shield woman approached him in the med bay, who figured out Loki's sceptre worked like a Hydra weapon (linking the space and mind stones & how they worked), who knows military regulations well enough to know where a building is built in the wrong place, who can figure out he's going to be attacked in an elevator after only a few seconds...

Sure, he only knows how to punch things 🙄

[theevilmaninyourcomputer]

It's election night, and I'm sitting at my desk in the dark staring at the polls. The numbers aren't moving, we probably won't find out the results until Thursday, at the earliest. But I can't look away. It's like a six car pileup. I need to go to bed, but I don't want to go to sleep. Tonight, maybe ever again. I've been talking about the election nonstop all day. For my own sake, I need to stop. I'm chasing my tail, you know? Just running in circles, after nothing-like fighting will help. Like spewing the same tired talking points will alter the outcome of the presidential race. So I'm not going to talk about it.

The Gestalt processing theory states that (where perception is concerned) the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. I've been thinking about that concept a lot, recently. I mean, you want to talk about 'souls'? That seems pretty conclusive. I spend a lot of time marvelling, in equal parts wonder and existential horror, at the world around me. Everything hangs in a precarious microscopic balance, from the atom to the solar system, the chances of us being here are so improbably miniscule...I don't believe in miracles. But, well, if not a miracle, then what is that? I've never been religious. My immediate family skews Church of Christ which, if you're unfamiliar, is essentially Oklahoma's Mormon equivalent. But I've never bought into it. As I've aged, I've begun to label myself as noncommittally agnostic, rather than staunchly atheist. It's funny, a few years ago I spoke with a religious classmate of mine. He told me the church had been a net positive in his life. I told him that I wished I could believe in God, because it seemed so much easier than swallowing the truth. I told him I envied him. I did, I still do. People find so much meaning in faith, in the idea of Heaven. I have to find my meaning on earth, in life. I have to plant my feet and train my eyes on the future. I have to find hope in the people around me, in the person that I am becoming. So, when I write about religion, understand that this is my perspective: I am an outsider, looking into the church, wishing I could find solace in Bible verses, knowing that I never will. Which brings me back to my point. I've gotten more spiritually wishy washy as I've aged. I know where religious folks are coming from. When I first read about the Drake Equation in fifth grade, it rattled me to my core. Accounting for every measurable factor, Frank Drake estimated the number of intelligent alien civilisations to be in the hundreds of thousands. Which begged the question...where are they? There has been one primary hypothesis.

Maybe they all died out. Maybe every great civilization was doomed to fall. Olev Vinn suggested that "the lifetime of most technological civilisations is brief due to inherited behavior patterns present in all intelligent organisms." In other words, humanity is a self-fulfilling prophecy. Maybe there is a threshold that no civilisation survives. Nuclear war, climate disaster...safe to say, our outlook isn't so good. But, and this is important, the Drake equation is wildly inaccurate. And, by no fault of Frank Drake's. It's an improbable answer to an impossible question. Yet, it's almost 2025, and we haven't even found substantial evidence of alien BACTERIA, let alone intelligent extraterrestrial life. So why are we alone? Why are we here? What the hell is this?

How fantastically weird existence is.

I don't believe in God, and I don't think little green men are coming to save us from ourselves. We have to find our own purpose, we have to have faith in each other.

I bring up Gestalt theory as a rebuttal to the nihilist 'why even bother' mentality. If we're truly drifting through the vacuum on a pebble, why try? Why get up in the morning? Why commute to your bullshit nine to five? Why bother with any of it?

I'll tell you what we're meant to do here. We're supposed to live. I don't know why I'm here, I don't know how I'm here. But life is the only miracle I believe in. The whole is greater than the sum of its parts. It's easy to get lost in the anatomical intricacies of life, to dissect it, and pick it apart in pursuit of answers. It's easy to get complacent, to accept that things are the way they are and take this gift for granted. We are bizarre rube-goleberg machines, complex, fine-tuned, and ridiculous. This is true, but we are so much more than our bodies. This civilization is so much more than the structures that we have created. Are you listening to me? We created the meaning of life, because we are the whole. The whole is separate from its components. The whole is transcendent. The whole is the spirit of the human race, and it is indomitable.

So, this election is not insignificant, but remember. We are bigger than this. We are so much bigger than this country, than this planet. No matter what happens tonight, keep going. Keep living. Don't EVER throw that away.

[sennenpharaoh]

Brush With Darkness

Atem had been asleep for the better part of the whole night. Visitors of all kinds: human... fae... Duel Spirits... hell, even a Guardian Angel. They all came to stay by his side at one point. Atem had greeted each and every one of them, thanking them for their assistance, some he'd never be able to repay. It was because of their kindness and strength that he was able to rest, his body, mind, and magic exhausted from the battle against the corrupted creature.

---

Inside the corridors that was his Soul Room, Atem had been laying down, curled up on the floor, his body as tired and worn out as his actual body in the hospital. Ever since he retreated to the safety of his mind he had been hearing... whispers. Voices. Instinctually he cupped his ears to mute out the sound.

"Stop... please... let me rest. So... tired."

Almost as if on command the voices began to quiet. Until a very familiar voice rang through the halls. One he had heard many, many times.

"You saw it, right? You saw the truth."

"I..." Atem responded, as if this voice was worth listening to. "I..."

"You were right, after all. You saw the Parasite for what he truly was."

"I... I was right."

"Then why don't you say it? You're right there, just take that step forward."

Silence.

"Still going to be that coward I see. Pity."

Footsteps were heard, stopping at Atem's body on the floor. Atem slowly removed his hands from his ears to look in the direction of the footsteps to see...

"You! How?!" He stood up, facing the other. "You were to be locked away! I made sure that--"

"You kept me away from that corrupted creature? Aww, how sweet of you. But it looks like that didn't happen, now did it? After all..."

"How else do you think you were able to destroy that creature?"

His eyes widened. "What are you talking about?"

"Did you honestly think that with your limited magic you would defeat a being possessed by the stone's power? Well... did you? Especially after spewing such venom towards both creatures?"

"Wait, what did you say...?" Atem drew back, bringing a hand to his lips. What was it that he said to the two that attacked him?

"You dare wield the power that has taken so much from us. The power that once claimed the soul of the boy we valued more than our own life. The power wielded by the man who preyed on our loneliness. The power that once nearly wiped an entire kingdom. And you dare sit here... wear my visage... and claim that power for you own. You are no King at all! You are nothing but a monster, and I will put a stop to you right here, and right now!" "I was right about you this whole time. To have this... thing inside you... it makes me sick. How you managed to manipulate the others, Aibou, and my Colonel, into believing you were redeemable with your power I have no idea. But after this... you will not come near my Colonel ever again."

The memories were vivid, fitting for what his Soul Room represented, and Atem could hear them loud and clear. Putting both hands to his mouth he stepped back, the realization of what he had said scaring him.

"It's amazing what truths come out when you let that stone come closer to you, now is it? You made the mistake of fighting that creature, and letting it attack you, come near you, touch you. You got too close. Even you must be aware of your susceptibility to the stone's influence ever since you first used it. Even now, it still affects you. That's why you run away from it, isn't it? And because of your little brush with the Parasite cursed with that stone's power... it's all coming back to you... isn't it? The darkness that you deny, even now... it's coming out."

"That's a lie!"

"Is it? Then take a look at your chest."

Atem looked down at his chest, then gasped in shock as a tiny black flame appeared, right where his heart was located.

"What have you done to me?"

"I've done nothing. It's what you've done by letting yourself get close to the stone. You know what the stone does to you, yet you did it anyway. And now... your true darkness is finally starting to reemerge. Look at it, the smallest of flames, a tiny spark. It's almost pretty."

Atem grasped at his chest, trying to snuff out the "flame" that was slowly burning.

"You still don't get it. You still wish to hide, and conceal, and run away. I've told you, over and over again. The truth will come out. All you have to do... is admit it."

"No... I refuse!" He began to shake as he argued with this dark mirror.

"So then... you think that creature can be redeemed? The creature who hurt you so much, whose dark power has plagued your nightmares ever since Death Valley? The creature who has gotten close to your magician? The creature you allowed to get close to your Colonel--"

"HE WILL NEVER COME NEAR MY COLONEL!!!"

Atem finally shouted, shooting a direct stare at the dark mirror, though something was... different. His eyes, usually violet and warm, were cold and crimson, more of a blank anger.

"He... he will never come near my Colonel. I will not allow such a monster... to come near those I care about. I... I hate him. I hate that Parasite of a monster..."

Silence as Atem's voice now rang through the halls of his Soul Room. Though... as soon as the echoes became quiet, Atem's eyes returned their color just as quickly as they changed. Realizing what had just happened... he covered his mouth once again.

"Oh no... what have I done...?"

Panicked tears began to form in his eyes as the realization of what he had just said set in. He had disdain and disgust for that creature but... hate? Did he really hate that corrupted mirror?

The dark mirror, Yami, walked forward, raising a hand to wipe the tears from Atem's eyes. "You're starting to see it now. You're learning to embrace your truth. That darkness right there, what you just felt... that... is why you defeated him. Until you learn to accept the truth of yourself, you will never see that strength again. You will forever be the coward everyone sees you as. But once you learn to embrace it..." He walked past, giving Atem a shove on the back.

"It's time to wake up. Don't keep everyone waiting~"

---

Back in the hospital bed, Atem finally was able to open his eyes, feeling quite rested after a night of exhaustion, questions, and visitors. Able to sit up he looked around, seeing who was still in the room with him.

"Aibou? Colonel? Everyone? Where are you?"

[oknowkiss]

So what happens when the show airs and more writers join the fandom? Are we going to gatekeep? Exclude them from fests? Because they found hp after we did? Should I tell my kids they’re not allowed to read or watch hp? What kind of parent would that make me when hp was such a joyous part of my life and I’m still in the fandom? How can I tell other people that the fanwork they make, based on new canon, is not right but mine is? Jkr is hellish, but this is not how we make the fandom more inclusive

what happens when the show airs and more writers join the fandom? are we going to gatekeep?

to be honest, i truly have not thought that far ahead. to be even more honest? depending on how this show goes/what choices it makes, i may not be in this fandom when we get to that point. i am queer and i am already so tired and there are so many other things to do.

however. i do not agree that it is not inclusive for me to make a statement saying that i, personally, have zero interest in engaging with people who value an entirely unnecessary tv show over creating a safe fandom space for the very people who are being persecuted by JKR. making sure the non-white, non-cis, non-straight folks in our community feel safe here is exactly what inclusivity is.

i know that there are many, many people who exist outside of discourse and have no idea what she is about. those are not the people i was talking about in my original post, although when those people join fandom i do think they have a personal responsibility to understand why some members of our community may feel more exposed or targeted than others. the people i am talking about are the ones who (as i said) fully know what she is about, know that she is going to benefit from this show, know how she uses her money and power to actively harm people, and do not care, because they'd rather watch a fun show in 1-2 years. those people and i are never going to get along, there is literally no argument on earth that could get me to see their side, and that is all i was saying.

i, too, grew up with harry potter. and yes, these books brought me so much joy! i agree with you there! i don't have kids, but my friends do, and if they want to share HP with their kids that is their choice. this is, again, where personal responsibility comes in, just as i presume it would for any other form of media parents would share with their kids that has not aged well. because even if JKR was normal, the books do have obvious sour spots (see: the antisemitism, or the whole SPEW plotline, both of which may or may not be included in this show, which is supposed to be a faithful adaptation).

in sum: while it's true that there's no ethical consumption under capitalism, that isn't a blanket excuse to do whatever just because you want to. i can tell from your comment that that's not what you're saying, but i have seen people already who do feel this way. and those people are not people i want to be in community with.

[toomanyplotbunnies-sendhelp]

Hello and welcome to Day 6 of "Let's Explore My Plot Bunnies"

Today, I wanna explore a Mo Dao Zu Shi fic idea that started because of another fic.

I started reading "Cultivation Chat Group - Scum Villain Edition" by shorimochi on AO3 (link here) a week ago. I have never heard of "Cultivation Chat Group" as a novel at all before this, so I checked the novel updates synopsis before I read the fic.

My brain, my wonderful but annoying brain, just went, "Ya know, this is the type of bullshit Wei Wuxian would get himself into in a Modern AU where Cultivation is some secret/legend" after reading the synopsis.

From there, it turned into a Modern AU + College AU + Cultivation is a secret that normal people don't know about AU + Wei Wuxian can see Ghosts AU + Reicarnation without memory (yet) (on Wei Wuxian's side) AU (Basically, everyone is an immortal in the chat group but Wei Wuxian, who is still a normal-ish human)

So, I present to you:

"Cultivation Chat Group - Wei Wuxian Edition" (title in working)

(Attempt at) Summary:

Wei Ying has always been a very... weird child. Despite being in the top students in his class, he is almost always absent-minded and not that interested in studying. Despite being a charming and sociable child, he always seems to keep himself back from forming closer bonds with his classmates. Despite being a seemingly well-adjusted child, many would see him talking and laughing at the air - which did sprout some spooky rumors about him.

Wei Ying, however, would say that he is quite content with his life - thank you very much. Sure, he sometimes sees things that many can't (and most times, he helps the little souls? spirits? pass on peacefully even if it did cause him troubles), but it's not that bad.

He is currently in his 1st year of university and aiming for a foreign language degree. He has friends (who have yet to be driven away by his "weird behavior," as others have told him). All in all, life is good.

And then, one day, he gets an invitation to a chat group. A chat group that he only intended to enter just to tell them that whoever sent the invitation got the wrong person. But he misses the timing... several times over.

Wei Ying gives up and decides that even if he is in this chat group, since they will realize soon they got the wrong person, he will just not interact at all.

(It's not like he wants to interact with them either. Especially since they seem to be into some role play thing with "cultivation", "cores"," and "corpses" (which wtf!?? Should he call the police?) and "spiritual weapons."

.... Yeah, no. He is definitely never interacting with these crazy people.)

"Let's just ignore this, and it will go away."

Final last words, Wei Ying.

Some small details:

WWX's name in the chat will be "Yiling Laozu," which is a silly nickname he uses on sites so that his friends don't recognize him. The name comes from "Yiling," which is the name of the street he lived on when he was young. "Laozu" is just something that WWX felt it was right to add - don't ask him why, he couldn't tell you.

WWX takes classes for 3 languages: Chinese, English, and Korean (he had to deal with spirits of tourists who didn't know English or Chinese and only Korean.. it was a headache and a half). WWX wants to learn as many languages as possible (at least to conversation level) so that he won't have to do miming or drawings to communicate with the spirits. (Just because you die in China, it doesn't mean you can fluently speak chinese in death - unfortunately)

He fully believes everyone in the chat group has some screws loose.

But he still ends up interacting with them (irl) because he found 4 children (more like 3 kids with manners and 1 with a short fuse) wandering around in the city while loudly talking about their "cultivation mission" or something. WWX doesn't want the kids to be attacked by some drunk bastard on the street because they are spewing bullshit so he decides to become their babysitter for a day. ("It's gonna be easy." - yeah about that)

What WWX is not aware of is that the "Junior Quartet" he met were not the first people from the chat group he met in real life. Some of those members attend his university and share classes with him.

The Reincarnation AU think I mentioned basically means "WWX has lived once before, which is why a lot of the cultivation stuff he reads in the chat he feel like he understands. In his previous life, WWX became something akin to an omen of death since he was always seen controlling resentful energy. He was never part of the Jiang Clan but grew up in Yiling and ended up staying at the Burial Grounds later on. He and LWJ crossed blades a lot in that life since they were on opposite sides when it came to the correct path of cultivation: LWJ said resentful energy is bad; WWX said resentful energy is natural and still energy and that if it wasn't a natural energy of the world, nature and heaven itself would revolt against it. In the end, WWX died from an ambush led by the other clans against him since he was seen as a heretic."

Just to be sure I mention it: in his past life WWX was never called "Yiling Laozu" so no one in the chat group knows who he is supposed to be (yet).

LWJ mourned WWX's death. Despite going down that path, WWX never killed without reason. LWJ met him a few times before he realized that he was using resentment in his cultivation, so LWJ saw a WWX who was incredibly kind, warm, and, surprisingly, childish. When he learned of his cultivation, LWJ was merely worried for his health.

This is why when LWJ sees Wei Ying again in the modern time, he is very much looking to help and protect Wei Ying this time around.

LWJ, seeing Wei Ying again at University: You are just as beautiful as the day I lost you.

WWX: What?

LWJ: What?

This is about all I have for this one right now. So, what do you guys think?

Honestly, this, for me, was fun to think about. The act of bringing cultivation into the modern world where technology reigns supreme is very funny since I can tell you right now Lan Qiren doesn't know how to operate a phone at all, and I feel like car rides make him nauseous.

Well, I hope you enjoyed my ramblings and also please check out both the fic that started all this and the novel if you haven't yet. (They are both good and soo funny).

Till next time,

- TooManyPlotBunnies-Send Help

[givemeasinglekidney]

Star Face | Yamaguchi T.

TW: Cursing

I know the fandom has been back and forth about whether Yamaguchi has freckles or acne. I like to think they're freckles but for the sake of this story, they’re acne!

Sending love to all my freckled and acne-prone readers!

(It’s not specified if you have acne/ freckles but it also doesn't say you don’t have them so this still works for all readers!)

Synopsis: Yams is insecure about his acne, so you introduce him to skin care.

Words: 3155

‘Yamaguchi Tadashi’ read in the notebook in front of you.

The notebook sat lonely on the concrete steps. You picked it up and turned to the first page to see if you could identify how to return it. You had nothing better to do during lunch, so why not.

‘Yamaguchi Tadashi, class 4-1’. Perfect.

You made your way back to the year 1 hallway. You yourself were in class 1-5, so finding class 1-4 was no challenge.

You walk through the already-opened sliding door. You had an idea of what he looked like, being on the school's volleyball team and best friends with Tsukishima. You weren’t the biggest Tsukishima fan, but it’s hard not to know who he is when more than half your female class finds him attractive.

You spot him sitting at his desk talking to a girl sitting across from him. You thought nothing of it until you took a closer look at his facial expression. Did he look… uncomfortable? Awkward? Maybe both.

You stepped close enough to eavesdrop on what the conversation was about…

“So, you think you can put in a word about me to Tsukishima?” She batted her eyes.

Is she serious?

“I don’t know…” He spoke nervously,” He’s not a fan of talking through others. It’d be better if you just talked to him yourself.”

“Please?” She begged, “I’m shy~, and you’re a nice guy, right? So you’ll tell him about me?”

“As I said, I don't know…”

“Oh come on, just because you don’t get anyone doesn’t mean you have to ruin other people's chances.” She got upset. “All I’m asking is one sentence about me? You can do that.”

“Be so fucking for real right now.” You interrupted.

“Excuse me?” She turned her head to you, looking offended.

“No because what am I hearing right now? You need a serious reality check if you think you’re getting tickets to that show.”

“We’re having a conversation here.” She tried arguing. You were taking anything she was going to spew.

“What you’re having is a one-sided convo on how your sorry ass knows she ain't shit, trying to use a guy's best friend to hook her up with him.” You told her off, “Leave him alone.”

She gave you the stink eye as she got up to go find her friends.

You sat down where she used to reside and faced the guy. He was quiet and looked shy even. Maybe more nervous than anything.

“Sorry about that,” You started, “It was too hard to watch.”

“Oh, uh, no worries.” He replied.

You set down his notebook on his desk. “I found this outside, you’re Yamaguchi, right?” You questioned, even though you were sure you had the right person. Never hurts to make sure.

“Yeah,” He answered. “That’s me. Thanks, I didn’t even realize it was missing.” He grabbed the notebook and put it in his bag.

“It’s no problem. I’m (L/N) (Y/N), but you can call me (Y/N). I’m not big on formalities.” You introduced yourself. “You’re on the volleyball team right, right?”

And that’s how it all started. A one-in-a-million chance of meeting started a beautiful yet chaotic friendship.

Now, in the present, you’ve been friends with him for almost a year. Obviously, being his friend meant you also became friends with Tsukishima and the rest of the volleyball team. Let’s just say your life became a lot more chaotic, not that you weren't here for it.

You were waiting for Yamaguchi outside his house. You found out about his extra practice at Shimada mart a few months back when you went to buy some ramen. You sometimes join him and buy him lunch in case he overworks himself.

You’d been standing there for five minutes before you got a bit worried. What was taking him so long?

You decided to take matters into your own hands and looked around for a spare house key. You finally found it under a random rock and unlocked the door.

Taking off your shoes, you made your way to his room.

“Yama?” You knocked on his door, “Yams, you there?”

You opened the door after no response. He wasn’t in his room… weird.

You walked down the hall to see light emitting from the bathroom door. You gave a knock.

“Yama?” You started, “Everything alright…?”

There was slight shuffling from the other side of the door. You heard a click, signifying he unlocked the door. You’re greeted with his figure facing you, his face slightly to the side, looking at the ground like he was trying to avoid your gaze.

“Yeah, I’m ready,” He walked past you to get his stuff, “Sorry for the wait.

As he grabbed his things, you took a better look at his face. His eyes looked slightly bloodshot and his under eyes were pink. You became worried but didn’t say anything in the meantime.

It was a silent walk there, which is unusual since you two tend to talk enthusiastically to each other. You just didn’t want to make him uncomfortable by any means so you kept quiet for now until you arrived.

“I’m gonna head out back,” He breaks the silence, “Tell Shimada I’m out practicing.”

“Yeah, sure.” You replied as you went your separate ways; he went out back and you went inside the store.

“Hello-,” He stopped once he saw who entered the doors. “Oh, hey (L/N)! What brings you here?” He placed a box of goods down in front of a shelf. No one else was in the store. Tuesdays were usually slow and today you guys didn’t have school per student holiday. You walked over to where he bent down to start stocking the shelf.

“Oh, just came over with Yamaguchi. He’s out practicing.” You answer. “Hey, Shimada… Has there been anything…off(?) with Yama?”

“What do you mean?” He asks as he looks up at you. He pickles up the now empty box and walks towards the back storage.

“I dunno,” You looked down slightly, “But he hasn't seemed like himself too much lately. I thought you might know something about that. I’d ask stingyshima but he’d tell me to mind my own business.” You ever so slightly mumbled that last comment to yourself.

Shimada faced away from you still holding the box but turned his head slightly back. “Hmm… I’m not sure. Maybe he’s down about his float serves not being how he wishes. I don't know kid, why not ask?”

Why not ask?

Gee, why didn’t you think about that

Truth be told, you wanted to, but you felt… scared? You didn’t want to put him in an uncomfortable position. But he’s your friend and you care about him. Maybe more than a normal friend should, but you wanted to know how to make him happy.

You gave a nod, letting shimada go back to work, and searched the shelves for some snacks for when you make Yamaguchi take a small break. You picked out some onigiri, water for him, and (F/D) for yourself. You paid for your goods and headed outside to see your friend on one side of the net and an empty water bottle on the other side.

He threw the ball up and hit it over the net. It was a good service, but it had just barely missed the bottle. As you looked back he has a face of defeat and irritation. You cleared your throat to get his attention. He looked over at you.

You held up the bag of goods in your hand. “Snacky time~” (As Tanaka would say)

You both took a seat next to each other against the fence as you laid the bag down. You gave him an onigiri and water and he mumbled a ‘thanks’ in return.

“Itadakimasu,” You both said as you began to eat.

Silence took over the two of you. It couldn’t take it anymore, what was up with him?

“So what's up with you?”

Well… what a way to be blunt.

“Huh?” He avoids answering, “What do you mean?”

“I mean you’ve been acting off.” You confront him. There's no backing out now. “What’s on your mind?”

He’s quiet. Like his mind is going through a million different answers and trying to carefully hand-pick the best one. You start getting self-conscious.

“Is… it me?” You ask. No, not everything is about you, but he seemed to be almost ignoring your existence today. You just wanted to help solve the problem. “I can leave if you want-”

“No, no, no!” He stops you in your tracks, “It’s not you at all, it's just that… I don't know, I- ughhhhh” He sighs and slides down the fence as his hands cover his face. You giggle at his little predicament. He let out a mumble of words.

“What? I can’t understand you like that.” You tell him while letting out a little laugh.

“Do you think… they make me ugly…?”

“What?” Your what meant different things. What “they” was he talking about? What made him ugly? How could he think he was ugly?

“My acne… does it make me look bad?” He opened a gap between his fingers to look at you. You looked at him sympathetically.

“What- of course not. Why would you ever think that?” You grabbed his arm to help scoot him back up to a sitting position. He took a bit of his onigiri and wrapped his arms around his knees to rest his head sideways to look at you.

“Because,” He sighed “When I was younger I would always get picked on for it. I got it early on in while in elementary and it hasn't gone away. I guess being friends with a guy half the female student population finds attractive, I still get self-conscious about my face….Maybe it’s dumb-”

“Of course, it’s not dumb, Yama.” You interrupt him, “I’m sorry you went through that, but I think their opinions are utter BS.” You tell him while looking at your half-eaten onigiri.

“What do you mean?” He asks

“I mean-” You stop and think, “You know what. Let’s cut practice short for today. I just made new plans.” You get up and stuff the rest of the onigiri down your throat as you get your things to go back inside.

“Wait, what do you mean?” He got up in hurry, reluctant but still followed,” Where are we going?”

“My house, dork!” You exclaimed as you picked up your pace. You said your goodbyes to Shimada and headed to your home.

You reach your humble abode and make your way to your bathroom. Yamaguchi is still in pursuit, yet utterly confused as to what you have in mind.

You reach into a drawer and pull out a large basket of products.

“What's that?” He asks as you place the basket on the counter.

(Even if you don’t have one, for the sake of the story your bathroom is bigger than the average)

“Skincare!” You exclaim, “And you are my project for today!”

“Skincare? I didn’t know you did skin care.” You said as he looked cluelessly at the products you had.

“Well, like most average human beings, my skin needs some help and I like to keep it as nice as I can!” You tell him as you look through the basket, mentally making a skin plan for the day. “And I thought it’d be fun to do it with you.”

“Are you sure… I’ve never really done this before…”

“You want to better your skin right?” You look at him as you grab two small packages. “Well, skin care is one step in the right direction! First, face masks!”

You hand him a purple package. You pull out two headbands from the basket and hand him the black one as you settle for the white one.

“You want to push all your hair out of your face before putting anything on, you don't want this stuff in your hair.” You instructed, “Nothing bad will happen, it’s just really annoying.”

He does as instructed and you pick up your bag.

“These are clay masks.” You tell him, “You spread it all over your face and let it sit for like fifteen-twenty minutes.” You open your bag and start applying it all over your face, avoiding your mouth and eyes.

He looks as you apply it. You look back at him when you're done.

“Here, let me put it on you.” You say as you take the bag and open it. You put some on your fingers and reach for his face.

“You might feel a little sting, but that’s normal.” You tell him as you apply the mask. “It just means it’s working!”

As you spread the mask on his cheeks, you speak up again. “You know the most important rule when doing skin care?”

“What?” He looked at you, waiting for an answer.

“That no matter what, whether your skin clears up completely or it only does so much, you are perfect looking just the way you are.” You smile

If you look close enough, you can see a little light in his eye turn

You finish applying the mask and you both look into the mirror. You both looked like weirdos.

“We look great!” You exclaimed, humor in your words.

He chuckled at your statement. “Well, what now? We got twenty minutes, right?” He asks.

Yeah, you did have plenty of time to do whatever else. “Well, we’re gonna be here for a while. If we want to do a thorough skin routine, it could take, like, two hours upwards.” You thought for a second, before proposing an idea, “Why don’t we start something together? Like a show or K-drama? Maybe a movie?”

“Why a k-drama specifically? Are we going to finish it?” He questioned as you went to find your laptop.

“Well, I was thinking we could turn this into something!” You pick up your laptop and head over to your bed, “Like a weekly thing if you’re cool with that though.” You slowed your speech to a quieter tone, becoming a little self-conscious.

You looked over to where he followed and he looked to be thinking. After a short wait, he gave you a reply.

“Yeah, that’d be nice.” He smiled, “Maybe let’s start with a movie for now, then we’ll have more time to figure out which k-drama we want to watch.”

“You’ve got a point.” You said, sitting down on your bed. You shifted to the side and patted the empty space next to you, motioning him to come to sit down. “Let’s watch Shrek.”

And for weeks, every Saturday night you two would get together and do skin care. You grew closer and closer, any awkwardness disappearing within a few weeks. You two ended up watching Alice in Borderland which was definitely an experience.

It was Friday after school and you were walking around a beauty store to restock on skincare products. You turn the corner to find under-eye patches when something catches your eye.

Jackpot.

Finally, Saturday arrived and you were ecstatic. For something so small you wouldn’t think you’d be this full of emotion over it.

Yamaguchi arrived around 7:00 pm as usual.

“What are you so happy for?” He asked with a chuckle.

“Can’t I be happy for no reason?” You sass back at him, leading the way to the bathroom.

Your routine goes as usual, going through masks, serums, and popcorn as you watch your show. It was nearing 10:00 and it was almost time to end your weekly session.

“No, no, no, no I can't watch!” He said while covering his eyes with his hands. You giggled at his reaction to what was happening on screen. You checked the time and decided to bring out what you’d been waiting for.

“Yo, I got one more thing before you gotta go.” You told him, getting out of your huddle position. You made your way to the bathroom and came out a few seconds later holding a little box.

“What's that?” He asks.

You hold up the small box to meet his eyes. “They’re called Star Face,” You explained, “They’re like cute little pimple patches that look like stars on your face! Isn’t that cute?!”

If you weren’t so set on looking at the box and back to him, maybe you could’ve caught sight of a light blush on the tadpole's face.

He let out a small smile, “Yeah, where'd you get them?”

“Oh, just the local beauty store.” you mentioned, “I saw them and immediately knew I had to get them for you!”

You crawl back onto your bed and sat on your knees facing him. You open the box and he goes to speak.

“Why don’t you put them on me, so I don't have to walk all the way to the bathroom to see where to place them.” He suggested.

“If you’re cool with that.” You okayed, taking a sheet out of the box.

You peeled on off and went to cover a small incoming zit he had on his cheek. He started laughing a little as your finger made contact with his skin. His laughter in turn caused you to crack up and grin.

“Stop!” You snicker, “You’re gonna make me miss-place them!”

His snorts died down and so did yours. As you place the next one, your eyes meet. The room fills with comfortable silence, yet you can’t deny there is some sort of tension between the two of you.

You reach for the third and as you look up, he leans closer. You stare at each other, inching closer bit by bit until your lips are hovering over each other by a centimeter. As you place the patch on his side, he closes the gap.

Your lips connect in a sweet manner. As he pulls away your lip chases his. You cup his face as his arms go around your waist. You stay like that for a while, taking in each other's presence, especially this close-up.

Eventually, you both pull away and once again fall into a stare. He blushes and looks away to avoid your eye contact. You smile and snuggle into his chest.

You both flop over, your heads hitting the pillows of your bed. You’re now in a cuddling position as you hug into his chest.

“That was… nice.” He said, and though you couldn’t see it, you could hear his goofy grin.

“Yeah, it was.” You say, tiredly, “So, now I gotta ask. How long have you felt this way?”

“A while, honestly.” He spoke, “I thought you were cool from the beginning, but you kept coming back to support me, the skin care was what pushed me to the edge I guess. What about you?

“I can’t exactly remember… maybe it was when I saw the passion you had for volleyball, how determined you are. But at some point, I just felt myself being reminded of you with small things and I got excited to see you.” You replied.

You both fell into a comfortable silence. All you two needed was each other.

“So,” he breaks the silence, “Are we a thing?”

You chuckle, “We can be if you wish.”

“Yeah… I do.”

And that is the story of your star-faced lover and you.