#words cannot describe how much I love you

[thbbie]

༄ benn beckmann x f!reader. (req)

you had asked for this. insisted. going on and on about how you could handle it, you could take it, whispering coyly to him how bad you need it. describing to him in great graphic detail what you want from him. and at the end of the day, benn was just a man.

a man smitten.

who was he to deny a pretty thing like yourself?

he watched fondly your (failed) attempts to keep your excitement from him, your want for him. it's just so endearing.

benn had taken good care of you; laying you down, kissing you slow, running his calloused hands over your soft body. and at every turn, when you try to speed things up, growing impatient at his ministrations, he isn't bothered by it, your excitement is getting the better of you.

though benn cannot blame you for feeling excited. excited by the novelty, excited by the potential for pleasure.

he is however, an incredibly intelligent man, wise and perceptive; along with that comes being incredibly self aware. benn's big. strong and roughened at the edges by the life he's gotten to live.

it can't be rushed, and that's just what he tells you as he goes on caressing your jittery impatient body. "relax my dear, you'll have what you want. just breathe, enjoy this first"

age has taught him that not everything must be rushed, and a beautiful body like yours? especially must not be rushed.

now he watches you fondly as you twist and turn beneath him, over taken by a blissful delirium you've never known before. clawing at his arms and shoulders as if they'll provide you salvation. perhaps they would. perhaps they are all the salvation you need right now.

he's sliding into you, slow and steady, balanced with a hand on either side of your head effectively caging you in — it makes him look all that much bigger.

you're crying out, and he lets you, movements slow and measured, practiced. "it's gonna sting for a little bit. " he says the words with his lips pressed to your temple, " 'ere you go darlin . 'ts a big stretch but you can handle it. can't you?"

nodding your head quick at his words as he continues sliding into you slow.

"not even using words anymore? you don't wanna talk to me now?" his voice low and teasing, the adoration he feels for your dripping off each syllable.

"i can h-handle it"

"yea you can. 'm agh- almost there."

finally, his pelvis is flushed against yours, bottoming in completely. you're filled to the brim, body adjusting to the unfamiliar stretch — he's just so big.

benn doesn't move, giving you the time you need to adjust. generously peppering kisses to your skin and mumbling soft words of praise. that you're doing so well, that you feel so good, hoe beautiful you look like this.

"benn," his eyes are already on yours, long hair pulled into his signature ponytail at the base of his neck with a few strands hanging loose. "you could move now" he looks devilishly handsome like this

pulling himself nearly fully out of you. and pressing allll the way back in. "theree you aree. m' proud of you darlin' . doing so well for a first timer." he's teasing you — or well, the mess of you that remains

already you feel stupid, all his movements so sweet, so patient; still greedily, pathetically, you want more. more of him, more of how he makes you feel.

benn counties, rhythm steady and comfortable, rubbing at your exposed clit gingerly. he looks so composed, barely even breathing heavy, meanwhile he's rendered you incapable of coherent thought.

"bennn~ i lov-" he leans down to kiss you, effectively cutting of your sentence and stream of thought. you don't love him, he's just making you feel really good.

his careful facade i starting to tarnish, the softness in his eyes is real and the hunger veiled behind is real too. he rubs your clot faster, thrusts into you with a little more force, watching as your beautiful face contorts for him. watching the little bulge in your belly disappear and reappear with each of his thrusts.

you lose yourselves in each other, limbs tangled and breathes mingling — this feels as new to him as you.

[lilliankoo]

play you like a game, boy • jeon jungkook.

chapter 5/8

genre: antagonist tribe leader jk x princess reader

word count: 5.8k

synopsis: the blessed leader of forest tribe "lav" jeon jungkook wants you and will do anything and everything to make you his wife. he’s blessed by the goddess, even a leaf cannot move without his permission but he worships the ground you walk on. now, there are two paths presented to you; marry him & return his love or refuse and watch him conquer your father's kingdom. power is like an evil yet a tempting apple and now its in your hands. are you going to take a bite; taste the sweet poison or will you use it to tempt him? its an evil world with evil options.. do you think you can handle him?

warnings: body horror, intense physical pain, mystical rituals, emotional distress, loss of control, manipulation, supernatural occurrences. power dynamics, confusion, subtle hypnosis, made up goddess, rituals. unsettling mysticism / occult elements.

Masterlist.

——————

The sun filters gently through the curtains, casting soft, golden light across the room. You’ve been awake for a while now, your mind lingering in a haze of thoughts. The scent of the candles you lit the night before still lingers in the air, swirling around you like a lingering dream. You lie on your back, Jungkook peacefully resting beside you. His presence is calm, serene, almost as if he belongs here, in this moment.

You turn your head, eyes studying his features as if trying to memorize the way he looks in this quiet morning light. Jungkook is undoubtedly the most striking man you have ever laid eyes on. Back home, people whispered of him as a monster; rumors of a cruel tribe leader whose heart mirrored the darkness of the beasts he led. Yet here he is, beside you, his face bathed in the soft light, looking nothing like the savage they described. He looks almost angelic. His long hair cascades across his face, a few strands brushing against his cheeks, and his lips part slightly with each breath. The rhythm of his slumber is peaceful, so far removed from the dangerous, unpredictable image others painted of him.

Usually, Jungkook sleeps in his own chamber, but last night, he chose to sleep beside you. As you watch him, the weight of reality settles over you. You realize just how much you’ve been swept away by this strange, intense connection. Growing up, love was a foreign concept; something you never truly experienced. Your parents, always consumed by their duties to the kingdom, never had time for affection. Their love, if it even existed, was reserved for their crown, not for you. So when Jungkook shows you even the smallest ounce of tenderness, you can’t help but bask in it, even if it feels like a fleeting dream. Lost in thought, you don’t notice that Jungkook’s eyes have opened. He stares at you, his gaze heavy with unspoken words. He murmurs something in his language, soft and unfamiliar, before leaning in to gently kiss your eyelids, your nose then finally your lips.

You smile into the kiss, your heart fluttering, and you sit up, breaking the kiss. Looking around the room, you suddenly realize that there are no clothes on the table where the servants usually leave your attire for the day. You frown, wondering where they’ve gone. Jungkook sits beside you, following your gaze, his eyes briefly narrowing in thought.

"Did they forget?" you murmur, more to yourself than to him, though his presence is enough to make your words feel less like a question and more like an unspoken curiosity.

Jungkook doesn’t answer right away. He simply looks at you, his lips curving into a small, knowing smile, Jungkook's gaze lingers on you for a moment longer, his smile softening, as if he’s savoring the quiet, peaceful start to the day. Then, he shifts slightly, his voice breaking the silence with a low murmur.

“They won’t bother us today,” he says, his tone calm but firm. "I told them not to disturb us. No interruptions."

His words are clear; there’s an unspoken promise in them. It’s rare for him to assert such control, especially over his tribe, but today feels different. His eyes never leave you as he continues, “The plan for today is simple. We’ll visit the Goddess Devti temple in the morning. After that, you’re free to do whatever you want.”

You feel a flicker of surprise. Free? After everything, this kind of freedom is something you’ve never experienced before. Jungkook notices the surprise in your expression, and his lips twitch upward, as if he finds amusement in your reaction.

“You can wear whatever you wish,” he adds, a subtle warmth in his voice. “But I’ve chosen something for you.”

He stands up, his movements graceful and purposeful. From across the room, he retrieves a carefully folded garment and approaches you. As he unfurls it, you take in the intricate details of the outfit; a delicate blend of two worlds. It’s a gown, but not just any gown. The bodice is sleek and fitted, the fabric rich with embroidery that mirrors the patterns and textures of his tribe’s clothing. Yet the gown itself has the elegance of a French design, with flowing silk and delicate lace that falls in soft, luxurious folds.

It’s beautiful. Unique. You can tell he put thought into it, something beyond a mere request or expectation.

Jungkook watches you carefully, studying your face as you take in the outfit. “I thought…” His voice trails off for a moment, then he continues, “It would blend your heritage with mine. A little bit of both.”

You pause, feeling a wave of emotion settle over you. He’s slowly trying to reconcile the world you come from with the world he knows. It’s subtle, but there’s a shift in him, a quiet willingness to accept the pieces of your past, even if they’re so different from his own. He’s not just asking you to be a part of his world; he’s slowly bringing you into his own, while trying to understand yours.

“I love it,” you whisper, your voice barely audible, the weight of his gesture settling in your chest.

Jungkook’s eyes soften, a rare tenderness creeping into his expression. He nods, the faintest smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Good. Then let’s get ready,” he says, as if the moment is already slipping away, and the day ahead is waiting.

But there’s something about the way he speaks, the way he looks at you, that makes you feel like this day is more than just another step in a long journey. It feels like a small but significant promise; one where both of you can find a balance between the worlds you’ve known and the one you’re beginning to create together.

—---------------------

The women move around you in a flurry of activity, their hands working with practiced ease. One of them carefully combs through your hair, Another woman adjusts the delicate lace of the gown, the fabric pooling at your feet like a river of silk. You catch glimpses of yourself in the mirror, your reflection is almost unrecognizable. The gown, a blend of delicate French elegance and the bold, intricate embroidery of Jungkook's tribe, transforms you into something between two worlds. You feel beautiful, but more importantly, you feel like a part of something bigger, something that bridges the gap between where you’ve come from and where you’re going.

As you finish adjusting, the sound of footsteps echoes in the hall, and Jungkook enters the room. His presence fills the space, the energy shifting as soon as he appears. He’s wearing clothing of his own, though his clothing is far more luxurious than what the others in his tribe wear. The fabric of his tunic is deep, rich crimson, adorned with gold thread that catches the light with every movement. His cloak, made of dark, velvety material, billows behind him like a storm cloud, embroidered with symbols of his people. His dark hair is pulled back, revealing the sharpness of his jawline, the intensity of his gaze. For a moment, neither of you says anything.

The servants begin to gather around, preparing to follow as you both leave. Jungkook gives a brief nod to the women who helped you prepare, then turns to you, his gaze softening slightly.

"We’ll walk to the temple," he says, voice low, his tone carrying a weight of reverence. "There will be no breakfast today. The Goddess Devti will eat first."

You blink in confusion but nod in silence, unsure of the meaning behind his words. The customs here are still unfamiliar, but you trust him, and so you follow without question.

The air is cool and crisp as you step outside, the sunlight filtering through the trees that line the path. Jungkook walks beside you, his stride confident, his presence as imposing as ever, yet there’s an undercurrent of quiet reverence in the way he moves. The servants trail behind you, keeping a respectful distance.

As you walk through the forest, the world around you feels suspended in time. The sounds of nature are muted, as though the forest itself is holding its breath. The path curves gently, leading you past the lake you had noticed the previous day, the same lake where you’d seen the mysterious woman. The water is still, its surface reflecting the soft light of the morning. But there’s no sign of the woman now, only the quiet ripples that shimmer in the early light.

The forest grows denser, the trees thickening until they open up to a clearing. And there, standing tall and majestic, is the temple. At first, it seems to emerge from the very earth itself, its stone walls weathered but strong, ancient yet still full of life. It blends with the surroundings, as if part of the land, its design organic and natural. Vines wrap around the pillars, and the roof is crowned with delicate carvings of animals and celestial symbols, all intertwined.

The temple is breathtaking. A sense of calm washes over you as you approach, the air thick with the scent of incense rising in tendrils, its smoke curling in the breeze. The large wooden doors are adorned with intricate carvings of the goddess and gods unknown to you.

Inside, the grand hall opens up to a vast space, the stone floor polished by centuries of reverent footsteps. At the center of the room stands a statue, tall and imposing, draped in a green veil. The veil shimmers softly, like it’s alive with its own energy, covering the statue’s face as if to preserve its mystery. The statue of Devti is clad in the traditional clothing of Jungkook’s tribe, woven, intricate, and adorned with symbols of nature and life. She holds a bowl in her hands, which you assume will soon be filled with offerings.

Around the base of the statue, a collection of gifts has been laid out; brightly colored fabrics, baskets filled with fruit, and ornate plates stacked with rich foods. The offerings seem endless, covering the floor in a display of abundance. The incense burns steadily, a quiet hum filling the air, and the soft murmur of voices echoes from the servants, who have quietly begun to stand in reverence.

Jungkook stops beside you, his expression focused, almost solemn. He doesn’t speak, but his gaze lingers on the statue, a deep reverence in his eyes.

“This is where we offer our respect,” he says, finally breaking the silence. “Devti is the protector of this land. She watches over us all, guiding us.”

You nod, feeling the weight of the moment settle on your shoulders. There’s something deeply sacred about this place, and though you don’t fully understand the significance, you feel the pull of it, a connection you can’t explain. The air seems heavier here, charged with the reverence that Jungkook and his people hold for this place and you can’t help but feel, just for a moment, as if you, too, are a part of it.

Jungkook watches you with a quiet intensity, his eyes softening as they trace the way your gaze lingers on the statue. There’s something about it that draws you in, something mysterious, almost magnetic. The statue, veiled in green, exudes an ancient power, and the more you look at her, the more you feel an unspoken pull. But you’re so absorbed in the figure before you that you don’t notice Jungkook’s movements until you feel his hand slip gently into yours.

He squeezes your hand softly, as if trying to ground you. You turn to him, meeting his eyes. There’s a flicker of something in his gaze, something between affection and a quiet urgency.

“Come,” he murmurs, and before you can ask him what he means, he gently places a hand on your waist, guiding you to the front of the statue. His touch is firm, yet tender, as if he’s steering you with purpose. The servants shift aside to make way, their movements reverent, and Jungkook steps behind you, his presence comforting but also commanding.

He glances at one of the servants, giving a subtle nod. The servant steps forward, holding a small, ornate box, its surface gleaming in the soft light. Jungkook’s gaze never leaves you as he takes the box from the servant and hands it to you.

You take a breath, your fingers trembling slightly, and open it. Inside, the box is filled with delicate jewelry, gems of every shade, glimmering with an ethereal glow. There are necklaces, rings, and bracelets, each one intricately crafted with fine detailing that speaks of both skill and reverence.

Jungkook’s voice breaks the silence, steady and calm, but with an undertone of something deeper. “For centuries, only the women of the tribe leaders have worshiped Devti,” he explains. “She only accepts gifts from the women. The tradition is still relevant, even now. Men were not allowed near the temple, but that changed when the forest found its mother.”

You don’t have the chance to voice your question before Jungkook continues, his hand still resting on your waist, steadying you.

“You,” he says, his voice soft but filled with meaning. “You are the one i chose, today we will see if she chooses you too.”

The words don’t make sense, and the confusion must be obvious on your face, because Jungkook seems to sense it. He takes a deep breath, and his gaze softens further as he seems to be gathering his thoughts.

“My mother…” he begins, his voice almost distant as if recalling something painful, “my mother, being the wife of the leader/ my father, worked with devti and took care of us. However, without any trace, she abandoned us when I was 14. Since then, the forest has been without a mother, no one has made offerings to Devti. The tribe believed we had been cursed because the goddess had abandoned us.”

His eyes darken, but he presses on, his voice low and steady. “When I turned 20, the tribe members told me I had to marry so that the forest could have a mother again. But I couldn’t; I wouldn’t. I waited. I waited because I knew it wasn’t the right time, i was proven right because then i found you”

You blink, your breath catching in your throat. “Me?” you whisper, your voice barely audible, as if saying the words aloud would make it all real.

Jungkook nods, his grip on your waist tightening slightly. "I waited for the day I could marry you. I knew the moment I saw you... that you were the one. The forest's mother. Devti would not accept just anyone, but when I saw you, I knew you were the one destined to lead, to restore balance."

Your mind races, trying to make sense of his words. You were the one chosen? The forest’s mother? It feels like a heavy weight settling in your chest, a responsibility you’re not sure you’re ready for.

“I... don’t understand,” you say quietly, the jewelry box still resting in your hands. You glance down at the beautiful gems and delicate pieces, feeling the weight of them both physically and symbolically.

Jungkook’s eyes soften, a flicker of something almost like regret passing through them. “It’s not easy, I know,” he says, his voice full of tenderness. “But goddess has always worked with women. The tribe needs a mother. The forest needs you. And the time has come. You are the one who can give life to both.”

His words wash over you, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at him, trying to process everything he’s just said. The weight of it feels suffocating.

“Jungkook,” you whisper, your voice trembling with the enormity of his confession. “What if I’m not ready? What if I can’t…”

But Jungkook interrupts you gently, his hand brushing against your cheek, his touch grounding you in the moment. “You are ready,” he says, his voice filled with quiet confidence. “I’ve been waiting for you. And now, the goddess is waiting too.”

—--------------------

Jungkook’s hand rests gently on your shoulder, guiding you with a calm, steady pressure. His eyes never leave you, his voice soft but insistent.

“Lift the veil,” he says quietly, almost reverently.

You hesitate for a moment, your fingers trembling as you reach up to grasp the green veil that shrouds the face of Devti. As your fingers pull the fabric away, the air seems to grow still, heavy with expectation. For a long moment, the veil drapes in your hands, and you can’t bring yourself to look immediately.

But when you do, the world seems to shift.

Before you is the face of Devti, a woman so breathtakingly beautiful that it feels like she doesn’t belong to this world. Her skin is stone yet flawless, a smooth, ethereal shade that glows with an otherworldly light. Her eyes, large and almond-shaped, are the deepest shade of green and silver, swirling with an iridescent sheen that seems to draw you in, like the endless sky on a moonless night. Her features are delicate yet impossibly perfect, high cheekbones, a soft, serene mouth, and a regal nose, all framed by long, flowing hair that cascades down her back in waves of black and born.

But it’s her gaze that steals your breath. The moment your eyes meet hers, a jolt runs through you, as if something deep inside of you has been awakened. You’re almost paralyzed, unable to look away, yet the sensation of her stare is both mesmerizing and unnerving.

You swallow hard, trying to steady your breath as you step closer to the statue, unable to tear your eyes from the face before you. There’s something so familiar about her, a strange sense of recognition that tightens in your chest.

No… you think. It’s impossible.

But the more you look, the clearer it becomes. The woman in front of you, the goddess Devti, has the same features as the mysterious woman you saw at the lake the day before. It’s her. It can’t be anyone else.

Your heart begins to race as the realization hits you. The woman from the lake, her presence, her gaze, it was her. The woman you had seen, is now standing before you in stone, in the very temple where her power resides.

Your fingers tremble uncontrollably as you take a step back, suddenly overwhelmed by the weight of everything. The beauty of the goddess is so intense that it almost feels suffocating, like it’s too much to bear. You admire her, yes, but there’s something about her that terrifies you. A power so deep, so ancient, that you can almost feel it pulse in the air around you.

Jungkook’s voice is distant, as if from far away. His words don’t fully register in your mind at first, drowned out by the pounding of your heart, the fluttering in your chest.

“She will accept your offerings,” Jungkook says, though his voice barely reaches your ears. “Place the jewelry on her, then drape the clothes, offer the gifts... all of it is part of the ritual.”

You don’t respond at first, still lost in the intense gaze of stone eyed gaze. As if your body is on autopilot, you slowly begin to follow Jungkook’s instructions, hands shaking as you reach into the ornate box of jewels.

The first piece of jewelry you pick up is an earring, a delicate golden piece with a sapphire gem at its center. You gently place it in the goddess’s ear, your fingers brushing against the smooth stone. You can almost feel the weight of her gaze on you, pressing down, making every movement feel impossibly heavy.

With every piece you add another earring, a necklace of twisted gold, a bracelet adorned with gemstones, you can’t shake the feeling that Devti’s eyes are following you, watching you. It’s as if she is alive, not just a statue. The air seems to thrum with her presence.

You move on to the next task, draping the goddess in rich fabrics, the same vibrant, woven clothes that the tribe wears, with gold thread intertwined in complex patterns. You carefully arrange the offerings, fruits, small delicate objects, ceremonial foods around her. But the more you touch the statue, the more the feeling intensifies. The fear mixes with admiration, a strange reverence growing inside of you, but also a deep, unshakable sense of foreboding.

Then, as you gently place the final jewelry, something happens.

A soft, almost imperceptible movement then, it’s there.

The statue’s eyes blink.

You freeze. Your breath catches in your throat as a cold rush of shock floods through your body. You look up, your eyes wide, your heart skipping a beat.

It’s impossible.

The statue’s eyes blink again, slowly, as if it’s waking up. Your body freezes in panic, every instinct telling you to run, to get away from the eerie, unnatural movement.

A scream rips from your throat before you can stop it.

You stumble backward, your feet tripping over themselves as you scramble to get away from the statue. You feel the presence behind you, Jungkook’s steady, reassuring hand as he grabs your arm, pulling you back, guiding you infront of him.

His voice is a whisper in your ear, low and calm, but there’s an edge of urgency to it.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs, his grip tight but comforting. “She won’t hurt you. This is part of the ritual. she does not harm those who offer respect.”

You want to argue, to demand an explanation, but all you can do is stand there, shaking, your heart racing in your chest as the statue’s eyes remain locked on you, the faintest trace of a smile pulling at the corners of its lips.

“It’s just the ritual. Trust me.”

But even as he speaks, you can’t help but wonder, What have you just unleashed?

The world feels like it’s collapsing around you, the weight of what you’re witnessing settling into your bones. Everything is shifting, and it’s happening so fast that your mind can hardly keep up.

The statue, which only moments ago was an inanimate figure of stone, begins to change before your very eyes. At first, it’s subtle, a slight shift in the way the light plays off the statue’s features, as though it’s catching a breeze. But then, with a slow, deliberate movement, the stone figure seems to... soften. The sharp lines of her face become more pronounced, more human. The smoothness of her skin, once cold and unyielding, now appears warm and lifelike.

You can hardly breathe as the transformation continues, the statue’s eyes blinking again, their silver sheen reflecting light as they sweep over the room. The goddess—Devti—is alive.

Your heart races. You step back instinctively, feeling a cold sweat prickling at your skin. The room spins, and for a moment, you feel like you’re going to collapse. You’ve heard the stories—tales of the goddess who blesses the land, whose power could shape the very world itself. But those stories were just stories. In your kingdom, gods and goddesses were treated as myth, as nothing more than tales to amuse children. Your father always insisted it was truth, but you never believed it. How could you?

But now, in front of you, there is no denying it. The goddess Devti is real. And she is alive.

A sob catches in your throat, but you force it down. Everything is foreign. This is so far beyond anything you could have imagined. You never once considered that you’d be standing in a room with a deity who, until moments ago, was nothing more than cold stone. Now, she breathes, her movements fluid and graceful.

Jungkook’s presence is a calm anchor in this whirlwind of confusion. His gaze is locked on Devti, unwavering and filled with quiet reverence. He doesn’t look at you, but you can feel the tension in him, the focus, as if he’s waiting for something, watching the goddess with an intensity that leaves you uneasy.

The servants, who had remained motionless up until now, suddenly shift. In a synchronized movement, they drop to their knees, bowing their heads toward Devti in a show of deep respect. Jungkook follows suit, his posture perfect, his head lowering, his form radiating reverence.

You stand there, frozen. You don’t know what to do. The entire room feels alive with power, a kind of energy that makes your skin prickle. Your legs are trembling, and your mind is in chaos, trying to process what’s unfolding in front of you. You’re supposed to bow, right? That’s what everyone else is doing. But something in you rebels, as though you’re too small, too insignificant to be a part of this sacred moment.

You shift uncomfortably, unsure of what to do, whether to bow, whether to stand back. Your instincts scream at you to kneel, but your body hesitates, caught between what is expected and what you feel you should do.

And then, after a long, heavy silence, something completely unexpected happens.

The servants, after bowing their heads to Devti, turn toward you. In a single fluid motion, they bow to you as well.

You blink, eyes wide, unable to process what’s happening. Your heart skips a beat. Bow to me?

You can hardly believe it. You stare at them, eyes darting between the servants and the goddess, expecting Devti to react, to stop them. How dare they bow to a mere princess of another kingdom? you think. I’m nothing; compared to her, compared to this.

But as you glance at the goddess once more, you notice something that sends an involuntary shiver down your spine. She’s still watching you. Her green silver eyes don’t waver, don’t flicker. They are fixed on you with a serene, almost knowing expression. There’s no anger, no hostility in her gaze, even as the servants lower their heads to you. She doesn’t strike them down. Instead, she watches, almost expectantly.

The jewels you placed upon her; the earrings, the necklace, the bracelet; glint and sparkle as the light catches them, transforming her into something even more breathtaking than before. She was already impossibly beautiful, but with the gifts you laid before her, she now exudes an ethereal radiance. Her form, while still stone, now seems almost alive, as if she could step off the pedestal at any moment, walk among you, and breathe the same air.

Your breath catches in your throat as the realization hits. This is not just any goddess. This is Devti, the one who has been worshiped for centuries by the women of the tribe, the one who rules over this entire forest, and the one who chooses the forest’s mother.

somehow, you are bound to her.

But even more unsettling is the way she looks at you. It’s not the cold, distant gaze of a goddess on a pedestal. No. Her eyes are full of something else, something alive. Something personal.

You don’t know whether to fear her or revere her.

A strange sensation coils in your chest. Admiration mingles with terror. She’s too beautiful, too powerful, and there’s something about her presence that makes you feel so... small. Yet, when you look into her eyes, it’s as if she’s waiting for something from you, something you can’t quite name.

Jungkook is still kneeling, his head bowed, but there’s a quiet certainty in his posture. He’s not afraid of her, he’s at peace. And that only makes your unease grow.

The room feels heavy, laden with unspoken words, and the air is thick with power and expectation.

What now? you wonder.

As you look from Devti to Jungkook, the question lingers. What is your role in all this? The bowing, the gifts, the sacred ritual, it’s all real. It’s too much to comprehend, but the answers you seek feel just out of reach.

—---------------------

The silence in the temple thickens, the air heavy with anticipation, as Devti’s eyes continue to watch you. Then, in a voice that doesn’t quite reach your ears, she speaks, her words flowing in the tribal language—a language that feels ancient, foreign. It's melodic, almost hypnotic, but you understand nothing.

Still, your body reacts as if it does. Your feet move on their own, taking slow, hesitant steps toward her. Your mind screams to stop, to resist, but it’s like some invisible force is guiding you, pulling you closer. Fear coils in your stomach, your heart pounding as if it’s trying to break free from your chest. You want to turn away, but you can’t. You don’t have control.

In her hands, Devti holds a bowl, She lifts it slowly to her lips, her gaze never leaving yours. There’s no malice in her expression, just an unsettling calmness that sends a chill down your spine.

The liquid inside the bowl is deep, dark red, like the blood of the earth itself. Without a word, Devti motions for you to drink it.

You’re not sure why, but your hand reaches out, trembling as it takes the bowl from her hands. It feels heavy, impossibly heavy, like it’s holding the weight of your fate. As you bring it to your lips, you can’t shake the feeling that this is something you’re not ready for, something that you can’t undo.

But you drink.

The moment the liquid touches your tongue, it feels like fire coursing through your veins. It burns everywhere. It starts in your throat and spreads down to your stomach, to your limbs. Your body stiffens, your muscles seizing in agony. Your back arches involuntarily, your fingers curling into claws at your sides. You try to gasp for air, but your chest refuses to expand, and you feel as if you’re suffocating.

You can't breathe.

Panic seizes you, your mouth opening, desperate for air, but there’s nothing. You try to scream, but no sound comes out. Your head spins as your vision starts to blur. Your body trembles, locked in place, your entire being consumed by the pain. The world tilts around you, and you fear you’re about to break apart, to crumble into dust.

Then, just as you feel yourself slipping away, you feel something else; a familiar touch, warm and steady. Jungkook’s hands are on you, gripping your shoulders with an urgency that brings you back to reality. His voice is a distant murmur, his words unintelligible but filled with urgency, trying to calm you. You can’t focus on them, can’t understand what he’s saying, but his presence is a lifeline, grounding you in the chaos.

Breathe, he seems to be urging you, his voice soft but firm.

And then—everything stops.

Like a switch is flipped, the pain subsides, the fire in your veins cools, and your lungs finally expand. You gasp, inhaling deeply as the world sharpens around you, as if you’re waking from a nightmare. Your body, which had been contorted in agony just moments ago, now feels... normal again. Your muscles uncoil, and you blink rapidly, still reeling from the sensation.

The pain is gone, but the memory of it lingers, a scar on your soul that you’ll never be able to forget.

You look up, still dazed, and see Devti standing before you, her form slowly returning to its original state. Her eyes are now closed, her serene expression unmoving. In that moment, she’s once again the cold, lifeless statue she was before; the transformation complete, as if nothing ever happened.

Jungkook releases a breath he’s been holding, his hands still on your shoulders, his fingers trembling. His eyes are wide, but there’s something else there too, a deep relief, like a weight has been lifted from his chest. His lips quiver as he finally smiles, a soft, almost bittersweet smile.

Tears fill his eyes, and he reaches out, wiping them away quickly, as if embarrassed by his own emotions.

The servants, who had been silent until now, suddenly spring to their feet, their voices rising in a chorus of celebration. They cheer, jumping and clapping in joyous fervor. The tension in the room shifts completely, what had felt like an otherworldly ritual, tense and filled with uncertainty, now feels like a moment of triumph.

You, however, are too stunned to join in the celebration. Your mind is still reeling, trying to piece together what just happened. You blink and rub your eyes, still unsure whether it was real, whether you were real. The taste of the red liquid still lingers in the back of your throat, and your body feels exhausted—like you’ve run a race you didn’t sign up for.

Jungkook steps closer to you, his smile soft but filled with pride. His hand gently cups your cheek, brushing away the stray tears that have formed in your eyes. His voice is low, almost reverent.

“Devti has blessed you,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “You are... her.”

You stare at him, your mind slow to catch up with his words. Her? You were already confused by the ritual, by everything that had just happened, but the weight of his words settles on your shoulders like a heavy cloak.

You look around at the servants, still celebrating, at Jungkook’s proud face, and then back at the statue of Devti. The realization finally sinks in.

You have been chosen.

But for what? To lead? To serve? To become something you don’t yet understand?

Your body feels heavy, your heart full of a strange mix of emotions. You should feel triumphant, like they all do, but all you can feel is... confused.

What now?

But before you can voice your thoughts, Jungkook places a gentle kiss on your lips, a gesture that feels strangely final, like a promise sealed.

“Don’t worry,” he whispers, as if sensing your turmoil. “You’re not alone in this. You never will be.”

———————-

next chapter:

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author’s note: haiii !!!! this was supposed to be a filler chapter but i just decided to add the ritual and like solidify the story for upcoming chapters. Also, i did not show the mean side of leader jk im this chapter caus i feel like this ritual was necessary to write, MEAN JK IN THE NEXT CHAPTER STAY PREPARED!!!! sorry for the delay, life is sooo good and busy rn i barely have time to be on my laptop!!!!! anyways, i hope u guys liked it, let me know your thoughts and your predictions!!!! 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 times are still foreign to me, im still trying to understand how to write smut 💔…. but ayeeee its whatever

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Taglist 💌: @jincapableoflove @voitier @koocreampie @kookxin @mysticprincessstrawberry @imwutim @synamon @withmuchluv-tannie @taekritimin123 @somehowukook @jungshaking @junecat18 @ilyjhseok @darklove2020 @lilyalone @yikes-ukiyo @icandoitwithabrokenhearttt @lilalouti @mar-lo-pap @onlyoursol-ace @margaretro23 @whatsupandy @thegreedyhibiscus @hoelychildofgod @bgfdcvbnjk @investedreader @geniejunn @somehowukook @jungshaking @recklesselfless @jksmilkshake @seagulljk @ttanniett @mageprincess7 @lolfcccfvvvvbbbb @royalguk @whiteoakoak

[ninja-knox-ur-sox-off]

aroace sonic: *says the most flirty shit ever* also aroace sonic seconds later: *does a backflip of the couch and almost lands on his face* literally anyone: wtf.

He’s got the range

(Aroace Sonic compliments pt 4)

[elenchi]

@themightyi:

Noel Gallagher's High Flying Birds are back on the road 🎸 Thanks, Seattle and Portland! Next stop, California 😎 📸: Sharon Latham

05.06.2023

Thank you San Francisco and Santa Barbara 🌴 Onwards to LA and San Diego… Where will you be joining? 📸: Sharon Latham

09.06.2023

Unseen shots from the road in 2023

15.08.2023

[xoemilyblunt]

At the time, it was the Queen, don't get your semantics going. I let you down? Regularly?? Wow. Sorry I don't have Patriots lingerie, I don't know how else to respond to that. Oh, good, I thought that was a rule. Guess I'm choosing Johns Hopkins Medical School, thank you very much. I don't ever wanna be mean to Ed, I love Ed. Or I'll also get one to Brown and just give a way better speech than you did. I think you just wanted to get berated by ginger Em Charlton, I can't imagine what other fantasies you'd want to have. But please, describe them to me immediately. If anything, it only had me more enamoured off the bat than I already was. I was very good at playing it cool, but my hands were very sweaty. I saw! I got a hospital pic of the nuggets, but no word on if you've won the godparent contest (???). It cannot be a red flag if you went into this knowing it was red. It turns beige very quickly. That's colour theory for you. Joking aside, I love you. What're we getting into in Boston next weekend? The girls are so excited to see your parents and I am so excited to have you all to myself.

I mean, now you have to renounce the KING, for the record, and you do regularly let me down when it comes to supporting the Patriots. It's not mansplaining, it's Johnsplaining. There's a difference... just don't ask me to tell you what it is. I mean, you don't have to have been there, do you? I feel like that's not part of the deal, but if it is they'll make an exception to hear from Mary Pop Pop herself. Maybe Harvard? Oh, ooh, or Cornell. Really bust Ed Helms' gut while you're up there. I love brunette Em, but I really am hoping for redheaded Emily Charlton, thanks. Fits into all kinds of fantasies I had about you before we met. You were very nice about it, but it was still absolutely horrifying for me, on my end. I still think about it all the time, it's like a worm in my brain that keeps me grounded and reminds me I embarrassed myself in front of my beautiful wife before I won her over. She is no longer pregnant, apparently, have you heard anything about us as godparents or should I set my wishful thinking to the side, hm? God, plain milk? Really? That might be a red flag. Do we still get red flags after all these years? I love you, baby, more than you know. Celebrating you once a year is the least we can do. You deserve infinite celebrations.

[qifreyplushie]

to wuming, hua cheng, san lang;

happy birthday, dearest a-hong. 🦋💘

DESSERT LATER !!!!!!!! 🧹🧹🧹🧹🧹🧹🧹(WHACK WHACK WHACK)

[slttygeto]

"look at the floor or ceiling, or anyone else you're feeling"

pairing: frat! suguru x fem! reader

content warning: slightly nsfw! established relationship, themes of jealousy, suguru and satoru have a frat house and they throw parties, reader has a male friend and they're a little too close.

Jealousy is a foreign, unfamiliar feeling to Suguru. He doesn’t remember a single moment where he felt small or beneath someone when holding your hand or watching you talk to someone else. After all, he knew what he meant to you and he was well aware of the genuine love the two of you had for one another.

But right now, he felt like ripping someone’s head off.

Satoru watches with amusement twinkling in his eyes as his friend’s jaw clenched once—twice, then he looks down at the drink in his hand, runs a hand over his left thigh before chugging down his drink in one go.

“You’re losing it.”

But instead of saying anything in return, Suguru crumples up the red solo cup before throwing it at the white haired male.

“Fuck off.”

“Just admit it dude,” and Suguru feels the blood boil in his veins. “You’re so fucking jealous right now.”

“Why would I be?” He raises an eyebrow. “She’s mine. I don’t got anything to be jealous about.”

Feeling risky and like adding more fuel to the fire, Satoru nods towards you. “Not even the way she’s staring at him?”

He was a friend. Just a friend, you had told him.

A guy whom you had met back in highschool and were extremely close to, someone who had shared a deep connection with you on a platonic level. He was a guy whom you had openly admitted to trusting with your life if Suguru wasn’t around to protect you.

At first he found that endearing, and it was comforting to know that you were able to maintain such a solid friendship with a guy back from highschool.

That was until he met the guy and things changed.

It’s not that he felt insecure, Suguru had never once doubted how attractive he was in your eyes, but there was something about the way you talked to this guy that made his stomach churn.

The inside jokes, the loud gasp when your friend had given you a gift you mentioned once when the two of you were young and naïve. It was the way in which you remembered the menu he used to order when the two of you would have lunch together, the way this friend stood in your kitchen as though he had been there many times before.

But the nail to the coffin was the look this friend was giving you.

Suguru was a large man, tall and broad shoulders and muscular arms which put you in a headlock every time you fuck. He was also a caring lover, tending to your needs and ensuring you were the healthiest you could be.

Logically, there was no need for him to feel jealous.

But God did he want to knock out his fucking teeth.

He doesn’t blame you for looking so fucking good in that short dress of yours, or the way your boobs were almost completely out. He knows that the makeup look you had chosen for that night was breathtaking, and that the lip combo would drive any man crazy.

But at the end of the day, he was going to make you cry your makeup off.

He gets up from the couch, marching through the party crowd and towards the kitchen where he could see you explain to your friend how you sneak in your own snacks to these parties. But your friend’s eyes were all over your body.

“So I walk in with a plastic bag, I try to hide it behind me—“

“Baby,” you look up from the snack plate in front of you when you hear the familiar purring of your boyfriend’s voice, a big smile on your face. “What are you doing?”

But before you could say anything, Suguru’s hand firmly grasps your waist before pulling you towards him. Your back slams against his chest, and your face flushes when his other hand travels down to your hip.

“I— I was eating snacks and you-“

“Oh, I meant the conversation you were having.” You can’t see your boyfriend’s face, but you notice the slight shift in your friend’s face as he looks at Suguru. “Seemed too interesting.”

You giggle nervously as you rest your head against his shoulder, trying to ignore the way his sudden affection was making you feel. “I was telling him about how I sneak in snacks,”

“Oh?” Suguru chuckles, his lips dangerously close to your ear as he whispers. “Naughty girl.”

Your breath hitches, and you feel trapped between your friend getting a front row ticket to your boyfriend making a mess of you, and Suguru’s large arms holding you in place. Heat travels up to your face and you look away from your friend as your hands grip your boyfriend’s forearms.

Such a familiar feeling to him, but it was missing the nails digging into his skin.

“Stop,” you giggle again, this time out of breath. You try to get out of his grasp, but Suguru goes from holding you in place to trapping you between his body and the counter. His body is looming over yours in a familiar manner, one arm gently wrapped around your shoulders whilst he rests his other hand on the counter. Then he places his chin on top of your head, pressing his chest further against your back.

“Go on, you weren’t done.” He speaks in a low, sultry voice, emphasizing each word with a press of his crotch against your ass.

It throws you off guard, leaving you a flustered mess as you make a poor attempt of collecting your thoughts. You can't look your friend in the eye, he's gone completely quiet as he watches the scene unfold before him.

Suguru's quiet yet loud dominance, the pace at which you melted against him, the lack of hesitance to give yourself completely to your boyfriend. Your friend felt very out of place.

"I get the bag," you start, this time avoiding eye contact. "And Suguru usually comes through the door and--"

"stare at you for a good minute, taking in how pretty you are," he says loud enough for your male friend to hear, and playfully so your face gets hotter.

"T-Then he takes the bag from me and lets me go to his room to finish getting ready,"

"Mhm," he rests his cheek on the top of your head, staring at your friend. "My room always smells like you by the time you're done."

"And Suguru puts the snacks in the pantry where no one goes."

"Not that Satoru lets them," the tall male cracks a joke, flashing your friend a smile.

Next thing you knew, your friend was excusing himself and marching towards the bathroom.

You try to turn and face Suguru, pushing your ass against his crotch so he could weaken his grasp around your shoulders. However, you let out a quiet gasp when you feel something hard against your ass and Suguru trapping you further against the counter.

"Suguru?" you ask quietly, fingernails digging in his forearms when you feel his lips drag down your neck.

"Hm?"

"What was that about?" You giggle when he nips at the skin of your neck. But he doesn't respond, continuing to give your neck open-mouthed kisses until he reaches your shoulders and then your bare back.

"Not here--" you gasp when he kisses the back of your neck, trailing down your back. You arch away from him, but Suguru's hand wraps around your neck and squeezes lightly.

"Right here," your breath hitches at the lust coating his voice, nails digging deeper into his skin. "Let's warm up a little."

2025 © all works belong to @slttygeto. do not repost, translate or steal any of my works.

[frosted-co0kies]

hc that kris s teeth glow

stole from this post. Kris you are so weird (affectionate)

[tatakaeeren]

Levi Ackerman in every 進撃の巨人 Episode

....Thank you Isayama for giving us this man ❤️

[widebrimmedhatsblog]

ONYX STORM SPOILERS (for your readers)

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If you feel like it, will you expand on how you think they are still involved romantically in the end of onyx storm? Like I get that they are married but that seems to more to secure Violet’s future without him. It doesn’t seem to be because he has any hopes of any kind of future for the two of them together. Romantically or otherwise. He doesn’t want her to look for him. Aren’t they as broken up as they can be at this point? I’d love to hear your thoughts (and love another/different perspective because these thoughts I’m currently having are honestly making me feel ill).

Also thank you for your contributions to the fandom!! Honestly I think fanfic is the only thing that’s gonna get me through this. Hope we get an upsurge of riorgail fluff from everyone 🙏🏼

I have never felt like doing anything more, anon!!! I get what you're saying, and I think that's the way Rebecca/Red Tower WANT us to see it, because they want us to be anxious about where it's going so that we buy the next book. However, I refuse to subscribe to that! Here's why:

(I wrote an actual essay, so it's below the cut:)

"Together romantically" My answer to the other ask was me visiting the Xaden Liarson school of verbal gymnastics so that I didn't spoil the ending for that anon. However, judging by Xaden's behavior throughout ALL of Onyx Storm (and frankly, books 1 and 2 as well) he wouldn't marry her just to dip overall. Like, even not being meta here, he wouldn't do that. He's selfish when it comes to her, for one thing, and he says this repeatedly. For another, he CLEARLY wants to marry her just to marry her. I don't want to get sucked in to another re-read (and someone else asked for my thoughts on the ending in general, so I'll reply to that ask once I'm done with my second re-read in the next few days with more page numbers and quotes and things) but in the scene with his mother, Xaden's reaction seems to illustrate that marriage is NOT a tool for him like it was for his father. He wants to marry Violet because he loves her. Now, obviously the shotgun (crossbow?) wedding was ALSO a move to protect her and solidify her place without him as you said, but with how he talked about marriage throughout the book, and how he talked about HER, he's not marrying her just to dip. He's just not! It means something to him, as she does, and he's not going to forsake that.

Violet Violet isn't letting him marry her just to dip either. Her thoughts throughout the entire book are that she isn't scared of him and she isn't running, and she isn't letting him run from her, either. The way the scene is set up with Sgaeyl, we see:

(Sgaeyl) glances over her shoulder. "And you think she'll help?" "She loves me." "Tairn does not, and you haven't looked in the mirror yet. The red veins branching from your eyes look like her lightning." "She'll help." It comes out with a hell of a lot more certainty than I feel. "She promised."

I am slightly worried about pronoun fuckery in this bit, but we know Violet loves him more than anything, and this portion of Xaden's chapter makes it clear Violet has to agree to whatever the plan is (murdering dragons, stealing eggs, etc) and that Tairn does as well. I think Tairn would actually support them breaking up, to a certain degree, and whatever the plan is, Sgaeyl does NOT think Tairn will be down.

And then, for more confirmation:

"We will ask," Sgaeyl finally says, flexing her claws in the rocky soil "And her decision will determine our fate."

They need Violet on board for whatever they're doing. Violet isn't going to be on board with him dumping her post wedding. I know some of these lines can point in other directions, but I don't think they do, for the reasons I'll go on to spell out below!

3. Memories I know some people were confused about what, precisely, Imogen made Violet forget, and it seems like she's missing 12 hours (which, insane signet growth, Im). I could not get over Violet forgetting her wedding. Hours after I finished the book, I was like, oh my God. She can't remember her wedding, and I burst into tears. Repeatedly. At length. Which is insane, because these books NEVER make me cry. All this to say, (again, given Xaden's tone specifically surrounding marriage) they aren't going to take having her forget their wedding lightly. They just aren't. She has to forget everything in those twelve hours, because she helps Xaden concoct/finalize whatever the hell he's planning on doing (I'll probably share what I think he's planning on doing in my response to the ask I mentioned above, but the gist of it for now is that mans is going on a quest of his own), but Violet ASKS Imogen to make her forget. In the marriage aspect, Xaden's protecting Violet, but in forgetting, Violet's protecting Xaden. This is why I say romantically together as well. I think the love is more important than anything else. I think the point of this book was to make it clear they'd both do absolutely anything for the other, and the ending is a culmination of that. I know some people suggested that they have her forget so that she can't be interrogated and used against him, and I think that's definitely true (although I think making her duchess also protects her from this, but Violet has always doubted her own ability to lie). Personally, my gut instinct interpretation was that deal she made with Ridoc that she'd let Ridoc kill him if Xaden took being venin too far (which, side note, do we all just forget about them being interconnected when it suits us??? He can't die because then Violet will die. We've been over this. I digress). Clearly everyone seems to think his little "display" at the end of the book is "too far." I don't know if he killed anyone important in that scene (again, I actually thought Bodhi dies? At first? And THAT was why she had to marry Xaden to secure the duchy while he was gone? but Red Tower seems to be very in tune to fandom priorities, and with how many people love Bodhi, killing him off page would certainly be a choice) but he's still at least an Asim, if not a Sage (given the veins, I'm 99% sure he's a Sage, but again, we don't get anything concrete in that ending. side eye, Red Tower. side eye.) and therefore everyone thinks he betrayed them, and he needs to get out of there before everyone else kills him! By forgetting, Violet is saving his life. That's romantically together to me.

4. Quest! Xaden doesn't leave Violet to pull an Edward and frolic around Europe for a few months or whatever it is. He has a plan. This what he shows Sgaeyl, I believe, and what Vi and Tairn have to agree on. It involves stealing the dragon eggs, killing the elders and/or the other dragons (save me third re-read of this damn scene, save me) and getting the hell out. @maethologies told me privately that the very act of going on the Quest means Xaden has hope for a "cure", just like Violet said he still had hope if he was trying to get Brennan to mend him. I think this is the Second Krovlan Uprising tie in: trade the dragon eggs (side note: why are there 7? did Andarna steal an egg and bring it back ????) and get allies against the venin (and eventually Navarre) (and perhaps do other cure-related tasks, idk). I also personally think Xaden's going to find more answers for Violet about her connection with Dunne. A huge theme of this book was that (explicitly) Xaden and Andarna don't know who they are, but Violet doesn't really know either. She spends book 3 helping them, and in book 4, I think they help her. Basically, he returns to the isles for quest part 2! Also, I think bringing 3 riders with him is a clear sign he's not just dipping. I'm hoping my second re-read helps me finalize who the hell he brought with him besides Garrick, but if they go to the isles like I'm thinking, my moneys on Dain or Aaric for the language translation (both of whom love Violet). I have a variety of other quest nonsense to share in the other ask, but the gist of it is that he is moving with a purpose! And his purpose is Violet! Because he's in love with her!

5. Meta This is where I get a LITTLE messy. I don't know if everyone reading this saw my 2024 reading wrap up, but I have read the vast majority of RY's catalog, and I consider myself to be very familiar with the themes she likes to write, and the situations she likes to return to, over and over again. A HUGE focus for her is the war in Afghanistan. She's been obsessed with that for ten years, which makes complete sense given who she is and her lived experiences. If you happen to not be super familiar with Rebecca as a person, her husband was in the military for a very long time, and her primary sub-genre is military romance. I don't know if this carries over internationally, but in the United States, marrying your partner early on in your military career is incredibly common, because it protects them in the event of your death and while you're deployed. I was really upset about him marrying her and then immediately leaving at first, but when I thought about it, it makes complete sense for who Rebecca is and what she's gone through. I'm not trying to accuse her of self inserting or anything like that, but she clearly likes to write situations that are important to her (as do I! As do we all!) and so it makes sense to me that she'd call upon something like this for X and V. It does NOT make sense to me that she'd call upon something she went through with her husband she's still married to and then make it a break up. Will it cause tension? Obviously! But to quote Mr. Riorson himself, they're past the break up stage. (Rebecca does some silly things with foreshadowing in her books, and sometimes she says things like this to prove them wrong, and other times, she says things like this prove them right. I really think this is a "prove them right" scenario, but I'm basing that off vibes, frankly, and my knowledge of her body of work. My Rebeccca-dar, if you will.)

6. Xaden Liarson I see your point about the note, and maybe I'm deranged, but I do actually just think he's lying. I don't think he's stupid enough to think she won't come looking for him at this point. He knows her too well for that. I think the "don't come looking for me" or whatever it is is a cover up for everyone else who thinks he betrayed Tyrrendor. Also, it slows her down! I am certain she'll look for him eventually (peep her broken compass from the god of luck, anyone?), but the note + the memory wiping make it so she can't immediately go looking for him. I think that's the point of it, not that she never looks for him again.

To conclude this literal essay, I think they're still together romantically because of Riorgail's most up-to-date characterization on their own and dynamic together, as well as who Rebecca is as a writer. I actually could probably write another essay on this, and I probably will in the other ask, but if there's anything else, let me know!! I need to bleed this book out of me so I can be normal again. But even if they are "broken up", it doesn't matter long term. The five book series WILL end with them together. That's how romantasy works. Xaden isn't dying. Violet isn't dying. Everyone else is fair game, but those two are fine, LOL.

Also, you are SO welcome for fic, always. I am not a fluff girly, unfortunately. I don't really write it in general, but we'll see if I get possessed. I do have a girl dad Xaden fic in the works (in which I have to re-work their wedding....) and I have some new smut ideas I want to write sometime soon! I think that will scratch the itch for me, anyway! As I've mentioned throughout this post, my hangover cure of choice has been to dive right back into Onyx Storm again, and I honestly think that was the best idea for me. I didn't do that after Iron Flame because I thought it was somehow "bad" to do so, and then I just longed for these characters for months. But, you do you! I wanted to make a masterpost of my hangover cure recs, but we'll see if I ever get to it. If you've read this far I am personally giving you a virtual gold star.

[raplinenthusiasts]

BTS x Major Arcana

for @dearedwardteach 🖤 {cr. namuspromised / psd / cards}

[yourlocalkiwi]

6/? Henry from Henry Saga: @rum-sugar-pirate Henry!!!!

(also a quick bonus bc I had to)

[clumsypuppy]

i feel like im not making any sense but does anyone else feel like there are stories that let u run with them and ones that spell everything out for you

[banethebloodgoat]

Thought this would be funny @pink-onyx-au / @ceephorsshitshow

[keys-hellscape-1020]

Hobie Brown Headcannons

I have some horrible brain rot for this man and I need to let it out somehow, so uh. Here you go ig.

Hobie Brown x gn!Reader

I think the whole fandom can agree when I say this man is Protective. Not in a suffocating way, no he would never, but in an observant way. He always has an eye on you and if you signal that you need his help he always, (and I mean always) comes in swinging. No one messes with his favorite person.

He’s generally pretty observant, but when it comes to you it seems like he’s somehow even more so. If you need help getting something off a high shelf he’s behind you getting it down for you with a small smirk and a kiss to the top of your head before you can even say anything. It’s not that he doesn’t think you’re capable, he knows you are. His love language is just acts of service. And he loves you a lot.

He’ll also help you out in other ways. If you happen to be a person who gets a period he will know your schedule like the back of his hand. And if you’re cursed with irregular ones he’ll somehow know before you even do when you’re gonna start (spidey-sense anyone?). He’ll come prepped with your sanitary device of choice as well as chocolate, sweets, and anything else you may need.

On a similar theme this man is firm believer in cuddles. He needs them or else he is incapable of functioning. How is he supposed to go deal with idiots if he hasn’t received his dose of love? He can’t. That’s how.

As said previously this man is tall, (6’3) and fairly spindly too. When you cuddle this man is going to be wrapped around you like a pretzel. His arms will be around your waist, you can’t tell where your legs end and his begin, and your chests will be pressed up right next to one another. Good luck if you need to get up to pee. You will not be getting up until this man has woken up enough to realize what you’re trying to do. And even then probably not. Hope you have a bladder of steel cause you’ll be needing it.

When you do finally get this man out of bed, I can see him being the one to cook. He’s not a great chef by any means but he’s not half bad either. You won’t see him making anything fancy but he has perfected the art of simple yet delicious meals. I saw someone else head-cannon that this man makes a delicious oatmeal and I couldn’t agree more. This man makes the best oatmeal you’ve ever tasted.

On the note of food, dates! This man loves taking you out on the town, but only small locally owned places! No contributing to capitalism here! If you’re new to London you’re lucky cause you just scored yourself the best tour guide in town! He’ll show you all the best pubs, small ones tucked away in alleyways. Best places to watch the sun set over the skyline, hangout spots, picnics, this man knows it all and he will gladly share his knowledge with you!

After all is said and done and he’s done showing you around the city, chances are he’s gonna have to suddenly disappear on a… very long bathroom trip. What do you mean you saw Spider-Punk swinging by the window two seconds after he left? What a coincidence!

Seriously though, this man hates lying to you and will refrain from doing so in anyway he can. He might not outright tell you he’s spider-punk, but he won’t not tell you if that makes sense. I’ve seen multiple other people head-cannon that he’ll just leave little hints around and wait for you to connect the dots and I whole-heartedly agree. He knows that you’re smart and he has faith you’ll figure it out quickly.

Once you do figure it out and confront him a considerable weight has lifted from his shoulders. He hates hiding things from you, lying to you about why he disappears for considerable amounts of time. And now that you know he doesn’t have to!

In all seriousness be prepared to be awoken at 2am from tapping on your window. When you open it Hobie falls in, in his Spider-Punk suit, 12 different shades of black and blue and coated in blood. This happens multiple times a month. You’ll get used to it. Probably.

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A/N: Welp first time writing for Hobie… Let me know what you think! I’m very unsure about his characterization. Although it’s very hard to write him well cause they gave him SO little screen time 😭 I’m in the trenches over here trying to do this man Justice.

[guaxinimraccoon]

Ok as a BIG musical fan i realized they where ALEX AND ELIZA and Alex Even looks like Hamilton so i couldnt resist

Also your artslyle IS sooooo pretty sorry i didn't do them justice

OML- YOU DID NOT YOU DID-

I'M SCREAMING I'M CRYING I'M GONNA HAVE A HEART ATTACK I'M GOING UNIRONICALLY INSANE

I CAN'T BELIEVE SOMEONE ACTUALLY DREW THEM AS THEIR CORE INSPIRATION DKSJDKSJDJHSLJANDHJAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA I WANNA EAT YOUR ART

THIS. IS. SO. PRECIOUS. I'll hold this close to my heart FOREVER. Alex and Elisa were created when I was absolutely obsessed with Hamilton, they're a direct reference to them.

So you not only made me an Alelisa fanart BUT YOU ALSO INCORPORATED THEIR SHEER CORE TO IT HOW DARE YOU

I loved it, hands down. I wanna frame it, can I frame it?? Can I- Can I eat it?? Can I can I can I HSHSSJHDS I just got an entire decade of life after this